


The Grand Plan

by LadyIrina



Series: Best laid plans [5]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Gamora is an enabler, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash, beware of man-smut, smartass Peter is smug, uptight Saal is furious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-19 04:12:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 39,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2374076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walking home from a late shift Saal could have sworn he saw a flash of a familiar red leather jacket as a figure disappeared around a corner.<br/>A block later, there it was again!<br/>Blinking, Saal picked up his pace a little and turned down the alley he'd seen the coat disappear and was just in time to see it flick around a new corner.<br/>What the hell?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning 1: Based solely on the movie!  
> Warning 2: Beware, this is turning out to be a big'un! There will be several chapters to this and I'm hoping to update twice a week.

The planet Xandar, 7 months after the defeat of Ronan:

Returning home after the disastrous mission with the Xandarian ambassador, Saal was dreading having to explain himself to Nova Prime. What was he going to tell her? Lying wasn't an option, but the truth could do even more damage to his tattered career...

He was more than a little surprised to find that the Prime merely praised him for taking care of the threat from the Reavers and basically shooed him out of the room for him to get some rest.

In the past Saal would have refused to rest before he discovered the reason behind the odd behavior, but that day he was tired and strangely gloomy so he simply went back to his apartment instead.  
Unpacking, he paused at the sight of certain pieces of clothing.

There had been no reason for him to take the clothes Peter Quill had changed out of, get them cleaned and bring them back home, but here they were.

Placing them at the back of his closet, Saal stared at them for a few seconds then closed the door.

After that it was all too easy to fall back into his old routine, safely behind a desk, as days began passing by.

The only highlight was an Arcturan officer asking for him to accompany her on a guided tour of the capital. She didn't seem too bothered by his scars, a nice change, and her lips were soft against his unblemished cheek as she said goodbye, but Saal couldn't help but to miss kisses that made his pulse race and his blood boil.

Ah, hell, he missed Peter Quill. There, he admitted it. Only to himself, true, but it was progress!  
The man had been gone barely five days and Denarian Saal was reduced to pining.

His mind was so stuck on the world's most annoying Ravager that he kept seeing the Milano mentioned in every other report. It had to be his mind messing with him. Why else would the ship pop up everywhere around Xandar? Peter and his crew had no reason to hang around.

Eventually it got so bad that Saal was starting to hallucinate seeing Peter himself!

Walking home from a late shift he could have sworn he saw a flash of a familiar red leather jacket as a figure disappeared around a corner.

A block later, there it was again!

Blinking, Saal picked up his pace a little and turned down the alley he'd seen the coat disappear and was just in time to see it flick around a new corner.  
What the hell?

Trotting down the alley, Saal could have sworn he heard footsteps and he went over into a light run.  
The hunter in him couldn't help but to react. It wasn't Peter, of course, but there had to be some lawbreaking involved for the person to want to dodge a military officer like this.  
Once the chase ended up in the docking area, he lost sight of his prey and cursed silently.

He scouted the area for a while and was just about to give up when there was a flash of red again, heading up a ramp leading into a small cargo ship, and the Denarian didn't hesitate.

Breaking into a full sprint, Saal almost caught up with the runner when the figure disappeared into the ship. The second the soldier entered the surprisingly empty cargo room, there was a huff of steam and the ramp slammed shut behind him.

Saal spun around and ran back towards the now closed exit and hit the emergency exit button.  
Nothing happened.

Pushing the button repeatedly, Saal glanced around the room as everything was starting to shake.  
The ship was taking off!

He instantly started scouting the surroundings for some way out but eventually realized they had to be half-way off Xandar by now. That was when the door into the ship opened. 

Saal turned to face his captor and he blinked wide-eyed with shock. "You!"

Peter Quill gave a wide grin. "Welcome onboard, dude!"

-

The Denarian was first frozen with shock, then he was furious.

Gesticulating faintly to his surroundings, Saal snarled angrily. "What the hell is the meaning of this, Quill?"

Making a face, Peter gave an almost apologetic shrug. "Remember when I told you I broke into your room to copy your ID tag but changed my mind?"

Saal nodded.

"Turns out," Peter grinned, "we need it after all. For a job."

For a second, Saal seemed too stunned to speak, then he exploded. "Are you INSANE?"

Why did people keep accusing him of that, Peter wondered. Just because he liked to think a little creatively. "I just thought that instead of just stealing your ID card, wouldn't it be better to have the Denarian instead?"

"Peter Quill," the dark haired man was basically growling. "Turn this bloody ship around. Now."

Peter crossed his arms and shook his head. "Sorry. No can do."

"You can't just..." Saal sputtered, gesticulating wildly before realizing something. "You're KIDNAPPING me?!"

"Kidnapping... It's such a harsh word," Peter complained. "Think of it more like... an unplanned vacation."  
If the man didn't calm down soon, Starlord was worried Saal might suffer a stroke...

"Kidnapping!" Saal yelled. "If you think stealing an officer's ship gets you a harsh sentence, what the hell do you think kidnapping an officer will get you, you moron!" He took a few steps towards Peter. "Turn this ship around before Nova Prime sets the fighter ships after you!"

Starlord merely shook his head.

Groaning in frustration, Saal drew both his hands through his hair in an effort to control his anger. "Damn you, Peter! You can't just waltz into my life and turn everything topsy-turvy, again and again!" He drew a sharp breath. "Are you actively trying to get yourself killed? Because that is what is going to happen. I'm a part of the Nova Force, you twit! They can track my exact location!"

Peter almost felt bad for the man and leaned forward so he could reach out and give him a consolatory pat on the shoulder and quickly withdraw without a risk of Saal grabbing him and throwing him out of the airlock. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't...?" Saal echoed, staring at him like Peter had just declared he was the new Nova Prime. "I have just been kidnapped, a squadron of fighter ships will soon be on our tail and you're planning to use my property for criminal activities, but I shouldn't WORRY?"

He was turning livid now.

Peter pointed his thumb over his shoulder, back at the door. "Exactly. Now come on. The others wanna say hi too!"

The dark haired man stared at him some more, then suddenly marched forward and passed Peter without acknowledging his presence.  
Oh, this was going to be an interesting journey, Peter thought. 

He turned on his heel and followed the Denarian towards the cockpit.

It was a big gamble to bring Saal, but the reward would be worth it if he succeeded.  
Peter just had to hope everything went according to plan, even though his experience told him it rarely did.

He watched as the other man came to an abrupt halt inside the common room, staring from Drax to Rocket, briefly at Groot, then back to Rocket again.  
"And you agreed to this?" Saal suddenly exclaimed.

Rocket shrugged, continuing to put together what was probably some sort of a bomb on what was supposed to be a dining table. "What can I say, Saal? He's the boss."

Drax didn't even look up from where he was sharpening a blade, merely smirked.

"Groot!" Groot squeaked.

Saal started at the sound, stared at the living plant, then made a frustrated growl at the lack of help from the crew members, and stalked on towards the cockpit.

Peter walked over to sit down next to Rocket, merely watching as Saal approached Gamora in the pilot seat.

-

"You cannot be serious about this!" Saal exclaimed, halting next to the one person he knew had more than two brain cells to rub together on the ship, not counting himself.

Gamora pushed the auto-pilot button and turned to face him. "I never joke about a job."

Though she sounded neutral enough, Saal could have sworn he saw amusement in her eyes.  
Shaking his head, he wondered what space drug they were all on that they didn't see the insanity of their actions. "You can't just kidnap me, dammit!"

Gamora tilted her head quizzically. "You mean you would have come onboard voluntarily if we had just asked nicely?"

Saal scoffed. "To aid you in criminal affairs? Of course not!"

She raised her eyebrows as if to say: 'There you are then. Why are you complaining? It's your own fault.'

Realizing he was not getting anywhere, Saal turned and marched back out to the common room. He halted in front of Peter Quill, clenching his hands into tight fists to prevent himself from punching him, and tried a final effort at reasoning with the man. "Peter, please... I'm not joking. This is dangerous. Is this little scheme of yours really worth getting killed over?"

Peter glanced up at him from where he was sitting and Saal was surprised to see the man was deadly serious as he replied. "Yes."

Blinking, Saal took a step back and had to gather his wits to remember he was supposed to be angry, not mesmerized by the Terran's face. "Don't say I didn't try to warn you when they open fire on this rust bucket!" He spun around to do a dramatic storming away scene, but came to an abrupt halt at the doorway further into the ship as he had no idea where to go.

Peter cleared his throat innocently. "Yeah, uh, we're a bit short on rooms on this bird so you gotta share a room, I'm afraid. Second door on the left, down the hall there."

Great. Perfect! Saal stomped down the hallway. Could this get any worse? Oh yeah, when the Nova Corps appeared and blew them all up!

Entering the room, Saal glanced around with semi-interest and found it to be one of the typical working ship sleeping quarters. There were barely any personal effects there, only a small pile of clothes on a chair, but luckily the place seemed more covered in dust than other nastier things.

Sighing, he sank down to sit on the lone bed in the room. 

Yes, he was angry and confused, but Saal didn't feel threatened. Whatever Peter and his crew were plotting, he knew they wouldn't let him get hurt or hurt him themselves in some way. If he had felt he was in immediate danger, Denarian Saal would have fought his way off the ship before Peter had the chance to open his lovely mouth and speak.  
No, the trouble was that he didn't know how to get off the ship without physically hurting them, along with the fact that his mere presence here would bring a world of hurt chasing after them.

What the hell was Peter thinking? Did he honestly believe because they didn't use the Milano that the Nova Corps wouldn't find them? He had to know that as long as a person, like Saal, was connected to the Force, they would always find him!

Denarian Saal spent the next four hours contemplating his situation and how to get out of it when the smell of food suddenly crept into the room and his stomach voiced its complaints about missing out on supper.

He hesitated for a moment then got up and corrected both his uniform and his hair. 

There was no point in him starving to death, that would benefit exactly no one, and Saal needed to keep his strength up if he was to find a solution to this mess Peter had gotten them into!  
Also, why should he suffer as an uninvited guest?

Venturing out of the room, through the hall, Saal peered into the common room and found the others gathered around the table.

Everyone was talking at once, ignoring his arrival, but there was a plate ready for him next to where Peter was sitting.  
Hesitating, Saal drew a deep breath and stepped inside.  
-  
Peter was currently defending his latest purchase of some questionable wine when Saal finally emerged from isolation.  
The man seemed wary, but a little calmer. At least the food had lured him to them.

Starlord was having trouble finding arguments to throw back at Drax' accusation of him forgetting how sick they all got the last time he persuaded them to at least try the wine and used the excuse of patting the seat next to him for Saal to sit down as a distraction.

The dark haired man sent him a narrow-eyed look, but moved over and sank down on the seat.

Peter rolled his eyes as Rocket claimed he could actually brew better alcohol out of the ship's fuel. "Oh, come on!" He absently loaded food onto Saal's plate. "That's exaggerating!"

More wariness as the soldier tasted the food, but it was obviously not too terrible as he kept eating while pretending not to listen to them talk between themselves for a long while.  
Eventually, one by one of his crew declared they were going to get some sleep and left the room.  
In the end, it was just him and the Denarian left.

"Peter..." Saal said as the door closed behind Gamora. "You can't do this..."

"Sure, I can," Peter grinned. "I'm a criminal, remember? This is what I do."

Making a frustrated sound, Saal got up and turned to face him. "What you are doing is driving me insane!"

The man could do with a little insanity in his dull life, in Peter's opinion, which he wisely kept to himself. "Go to bed, Saal. Get some rest. You gotta be tired."  
That made the man squint suspiciously at him and Starlord chuckled.  
"Don't worry, man, I'm on the graveyard duty so you get to sleep alone tonight."

Saal considered the words and then shifted his weight uneasily. "So you weren't joking about sharing a room?" He suddenly remembered, with startling clarity, that there was only one bed in the room.

"No," Peter declared merrily and felt a twinge of affection as he saw the faintest color rise to Saal's face. "But, like I said, you're safe tonight, buddy."

There was the tip of Saal's tongue wetting his lips again, how could the man not know that was baiting, and the soldier crossed his arms defensively. "Why a nightshift? You have auto-pilot and a course, yes?"

"Well, yeah," Peter replied, letting his eyes roam over the man who would probably snap his wrist if he tried to touch him at the moment, no matter what his body language said. "But we're heading into an area with a lot of pirates. Don't wanna risk an ambush and losing our cargo!"

Saal's lip curled with disdain, as it had a habit of doing whenever someone mentioned criminals. "No honor among thieves after all then?"

Peter smirked. "Not really." He let his eyes roam over Saal again. This time making no effort to hide what he was doing. "When we want something..." He met the dark eyes defiantly. "We take it."

Saal swallowed hard, clearly torn between being offended and unwillingly interested.

Chuckling softly, Peter turned to head for the cockpit. "Go get some sleep, Saal."

He settled into the pilot seat, noticing it took a little while before the Denarian did as ordered, and Starlord could finally relax once he knew that he was all alone.

Staring out at the darkness of space, Peter leaned back and placed his feet on the control panel.

While it was dangerously tempting to go scratching at Saal's door, he knew the possibility of getting rejected was far too big to risk it. The man was still angry.  
And this game had to be played very carefully.

Because of that, Peter decided to give him that first night alone and didn't mind spending the night in the pilot seat as it hopefully would calm Saal down even more.

He'd known the Denarian wouldn't be happy, but Peter had no chance of knowing just how long the hissy fit would last.

If the man really had been dead set on getting off the ship, then no power in the galaxy could have kept him there. Simple as that. Saal was a Denarian for a reason. But that did not mean he was going to give in without a fight.

Yeah, this was definitely going to be an interesting journey!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up, Saal blinked several times in sleepy confusion as he didn't recognize his surroundings, but then the memories came rushing back and all drowsiness vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning; based solely on the movie!

Waking up, Saal blinked several times in sleepy confusion as he didn't recognize his surroundings, but then the memories came rushing back and all drowsiness vanished.

He sat up in the bed and glanced around the room. No sign of Peter having been there.  
But, even stranger, there were no sign of the Nova Corps either.

Saal couldn't feel any distress in the Nova Force humming through his mind, no sign of anything being out of the ordinary, so he calmly withdrew from it and hoped against hope that it would stay that way.  
Still, adding Nova Prime's odd behavior in connection to the ambassador incident, the Denarian wondered if maybe they'd accepted his resignation after all and forgot to tell him.

He felt strangely relieved that Peter might not get shot for his lunacy, but also slightly betrayed by his own kin who thought that Saal was obviously not worth mounting a rescue for anymore.

Pushing the thoughts away, the soldier got out of bed and wandered into the tiny bathroom to get ready to face the others.  
Maybe Peter and the crew were more receptive to reason now?

Entering the common room, Saal found Peter and Rocket sitting on opposite sides of the table.

"Morning sunshine!" Rocket grinned, displaying a row of sharp teeth. "Ready for a new exciting day of crime?"

Peter kicked him under the table and sent the raccoon a warning glare.

"What?" Rocket complained with a touch of sadistic laugh.

A light touch to his shoulder made Saal start and he was surprised to see Gamora next to him, he hadn't even heard her approach, and she handed over a plate with breakfast.  
He numbly accepted it. "That's, ah, thank you."

She merely smiled in return, like she was amused at feeding a stray, before sticking her chin out in a gesture for him to move on over to the table.

Hesitating a second, Saal walked over to sink down next to Peter while she left the room. 

Peter straightened and tried to give him a smile as he sat down and Saal began to return it before he checked himself and stared down at the food.  
He was still angry at the whole kidnapping-thing. He would not be bribed by words, looks and breakfasts! Even if his own kind obviously couldn't be arsed to save him.

"Hey, Saal," Rocket said, leaning slightly forward over the table. "Tell me something, why do you Nova guys keep insisting on using those old crappy photon-blasters instead of the PX-988s? I mean, if you wanna appear like outdated old farts, that's your business, but I kinda thought you were all about stopping the bad guys. Not just hurt their egos with those pea-shooters."

Swallowing down a big bite of bread, Saal lifted a sarcastic eyebrow. "Sure, if we were simply aiming to kill the idiots stupid enough to break the law. As we don't act like brutes, we try to capture the culprits alive."

Rocket scoffed. "Yeah, much more civilized to ship'em off to a prison to be killed by other prisoners in much more creative ways."

Saal shrugged and took another bite. "That's the consequences of their actions. Not our responsibility. We have a duty to protect the innocent from the law-breakers."

"And who has a duty to protect you from shitty weapons choices?" Rocket wondered.

Strangely offended, Saal sent him a sour look. There was absolutely nothing wrong with his trusty old blaster. She hadn't let him down so far!

"Boys, boys," Peter chided gently, clearly amused. "Play nice."

But the game was on and the rest of the breakfast was spent debating weapons and explosives, until Rocket declared it was his turn to take a shift in the pilot seat and left the room with a faint wave.  
And when the Denarian got up in turn, it was only to bump into a wall behind him.

No. Not a wall.

Drax.

"I wish to train with the man with the tight uniform pants."

-

Peter couldn't help snorting a surprised laugh, but managed to choke it down pretty fast and tried desperately to put on his best game face.  
Drax did have a point. The pants of the Xandarian non-combat uniform really did cling to Saal like Peter himself wanted to.  
Yet the funniest part was the flicker of panic on the soldier's face.

Peter was struck by a suddenly flair of evil. "Excellent idea!" Starlord exclaimed, slapping a hand on the table. "Burn off some of that energy from being cooped up in the ship."

Saal obviously flailed for some excuse to avoid it, but soon found himself swept along with Drax and Peter towards the cargo room.

Peter knew he should be catching up on some sleep, but he just couldn't walk away from this.  
Finding himself a crate to sit on in the cargo room, he got comfortable to take in the show.

It was clear that the soldier wasn't entirely sure of what was expected from him. Saal was watching Drax, who was already in fighting position, somewhat nervously and he ended up with a semi defensive and semi offensive stance.

Three seconds later, Denarian Saal was introduced to the floor.

Peter flinched at the sound of the impact and gave a faint smile of sympathy as the man glanced over at him in disbelief. 

Realizing he was on his own, Saal got up on his feet with an annoyed mutter and this time went into a proper fighting position.  
It bought him ten seconds on his feet before he was back on the floor again.  
Now the soldier didn't hesitate and was up on his feet before Drax even had the chance to back away.

Leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees, Peter was fascinated to see the competitive instinct waking inside the Xandarian. There was so much life in that man, just waiting to be unleashed...

Saal was learning and adapting by each round, staying on his feet longer for every time, and the smile on Drax' face grew increasingly wider.

An entire hour had passed when Saal, now covered with sweat, shed his uniform jacket to continue training in his undershirt instead.

Starlord couldn't help but to notice how the shirt displayed not only delicious muscles, but also the scars crawling down his left arm to his elbow, as well as his neck, something the soldier seemed to ignore in favor of advancing on Drax.

A while later, Peter was wondering if he should consider pulling the plug before Saal ended up hurting himself, when suddenly the dark haired man dodged an attack from Drax, grabbed his arm and flipped the massive fighter over to send him slamming into the floor.  
Drax laughed, but Peter couldn't help but to stare at Saal. 

The Denarian was breathing hard, his undershirt drenched with sweat, with his muscles all worked up and shining. His dark eyes sharp like a true predator. His entire body humming with strength.

It made Peter feel a jab of want so strong it was close to pain.

This was how Saal was meant to be!

Peter saw him reach out a hand and pull Drax back up his feet when other man accepted it. And then accept the complimentary slap on the back from the big guy, which would have sent a lesser man sprawling, with a polite smile and a nod. Ever the gentleman.

Starlord abruptly got up from the crate and walked out of the room before he fell for the temptation and attached himself to Saal like a bad rash.

He decided to head back to the common room and either get some sleep on the sofa there or just overdose on coffee to stay awake.  
When he arrived there, the sofa seemed like the most sensible choice.

-

Returning to his room, Saal was both exhausted and incredibly energized at the same time.  
He had no idea how long he'd been training with Drax, but knew it was probably far too long. He hadn't been doing this intense hand to hand combat since the academy!

At the end of their session though, a laughing Drax had grabbed a hold of Saal's shoulders and given him a good shake.

"Yes. Yes, you will do," the man had stated and then merely marched off, chuckling to himself.

Whatever that meant, Saal had no idea, but he'd picked up his jacket and headed back to the sleeping quarters and half dreaded to find Peter there. So it made absolutely no sense that he was disappointed to find it empty!

Still, the Denarian didn't dwell on it, merely started to peel of his sweaty clothes and got into the shower.

He hesitated briefly when he emerged later from the now steamy room and paused by the pile of clothes on the chair.  
It didn't seem very tempting to put his old clothes back on, sweaty and dirty as they were, so he gingerly examined what was piled there. Everything turned out to be his size and Saal huffed amused.  
"Thinking ahead, Peter? That's not like you."

He chose a light grey t-shirt and a pair of black pants, almost reaching out for his uniform jacket but decided against it. What was the point? He wasn't on parade here. Hell, most of them probably wouldn't notice whether he wore the uniform or not anyways. Might as well be comfortable! Though he did make sure to fix his hair. No need to turn completely uncivilized.

He could hear their voices long before he entered the common room. 

Rocket was hassling Peter again, Drax was laughing and the still pot-bound Groot was studying a single leaf it had grown on one arm.

For a moment, Saal merely stood in the doorway and watched them. Listened.

Peter Quill was supposed to be their leader, he 'was' their leader, and yet they all spoke their mind to him. There was no trace of respect or humility in the way Rocket was mock-laughing at him or how Drax threatened to kill them both if they didn't stop bumping the table while he was eating.

A cadet would get kicked out of the academy if he or she treated a senior officer like that. But then again, Saal mused, this odd gathering did not strike him as soldiers. No, they were more like... friends. Almost family, to be honest. He wasn't sure why he suddenly felt like such an outsider.

Noticing Gamora back in the pilot seat, Saal snuck his way through the common room and entered the cockpit. 

The assassin glanced over as he approach and gave him a slight smile. "Hey." She turned her attention back to the radar. "Heard you were training with Drax earlier. I will be seriously offended if I don't get a turn, next time."

Saal shrugged with a quiet laugh, strangely flattered. "Sure..." He crossed his arms and leaned against the co-pilot seat to glance back at the common room. More precisely, to watch Peter. Looking was allowed, right?

"Break his heart and I'll break your neck," Gamora suddenly stated.

Starting, Saal straightened and turned to face her. "What...?"

She didn't even look at him. "You heard me."

The Denarian was so surprised by her assumption that he forgot to deny that he would ever sink as low as to instigate any form of relationship with an outlaw. 

If anyone was in danger of getting hurt, it was bloody well him, wasn't it? He was the innocent one! Peter was the one who broke into apartments, molested people and then stole their ships! Saal wasn't the one who started all this, creeping under the skin of unsuspecting Denarians! Also, Peter "Pink Knickers" Quill was renowned for bedding anything with a pulse and not caring!

Gamora smiled, almost as if she could hear his thought-process, and finally turned to glance over at him. "Peter is many things, a lot I can do without, but he also one who loves with all of his heart. That is why he protects it so well." 

-

Saal frowned and stole a glance over at the man in question, who was currently half-way over the table and yelling something at Rocket. What was the point she was trying to make?

Gamora sighed, rolling her eyes as if she was burdened with yet another idiot on the ship. "The man hasn't had a partner in bed for two months, Saal!"

"So?"

"So?" Gamora repeated, now making no effort to hide her exasperation. "His old record was three days!"

Saal turned his gaze back at her. "What does that have to do with me?"

The assassin looked she was getting ready to punch him. "And you made Denarian?" She shook her head, as if disappointed. "Use that big brain of yours, Saal. Peter kept digging up reasons for us to hang around here. He even joined that card game with the Reavers just to distract himself. That's stupid, even for that idiot." There was a light shrug. "He didn't know what to do. I guess when he decided to save you instead of stealing that ID card, he didn't anticipate ending up falling for you."

Opening and closing his mouth a couple of times, Saal ended up turning to stare at Peter again.

In lightning flashes, all the pieces fell into place and suddenly he remembered every time the Terran would hug him just a little too tight, how his kisses would sometimes linger or find his skin without desire demanding it. He realized what he'd thought had been his own wishful thinking or a Ravager's awkwardness of being near someone on the opposite side of the law had been Peter clamping down on his feelings every bit as forcefully as Saal had been doing himself.

To his defense, it was hard enough to believe a good-looking guy like Peter Quill would bother with a scarred has-been like Saal for sex, much less something more, but it was so obvious now that he thought about it.

The scars didn't matter. His Denarian title didn't matter. His inexperience in bed didn't matter.

Peter wanted Garthan Saal. For whatever twisted reason. Hell, the man had even kidnapped him!

Saal acted before he could think too much about it, marched into the common room, breaking into the discussion, and stared at Peter. "I need a word with you."

Blinking wide-eyed, Peter gestured faintly to Drax and Rocket. "We're kinda in the middle of something here." 

"Now," the soldier demanded in a steel voice. "In private." That made the Ravager look like a startled animal caught in the lights of a vehicle. He didn't move.  
Saal simply reached out, grabbed a hold of the front of Peter's t-shirt and dragged him stumbling along.

Marching down the hallway, the Denarian didn't release the other man, barely able to hear his nervous complaining as his pulse was thundering so loud in his ears.

"You're not going to throw me out the airlock, are you?" Peter whined.

Pushing the door to their room open, Saal stalked inside and yanked him along before slamming the door shut again.

Peter opened his mouth, probably to continue his complaining, but Saal pushed him back hard against the door and then followed himself for a fierce kiss.

For a moment, the Terran was stunned, his arms flailing in surprise, then his hands came up to Saal's shoulders and he tried to pull him even closer as more kisses followed.

Usually it didn't take long for Saal to turn impatient at the hands of the Ravager, but this time he was digging his teeth into Peter's neck long before the man had even the chance to touch the Denarian's skin.  
It made Peter groan and arch against him and it seemed like he didn't need more cajoling to get as demanding as Saal.

They were soon tearing at each other's clothes, hindering each other's progress more than anything else, and Saal slapped Peter's hands away with an irritated growl.

Grabbing a hold of the hem of his t-shirt, Saal pulled it off the Terran with little finesse and shoved him back against the door again, running his hands greedily over the rapidly rising and falling chest.  
He would never ever tire of exploring this body...

-  
Peter closed his eyes tight and thumped his head back against the door when Saal's hot mouth covered one of his nipples.  
He had no idea what had suddenly possessed the man, but Starlord couldn't stop even to save his life.

Trying to pull Saal up to another kiss was punished with a touch of teeth on his sensitive skin and Peter moved his hand up to clutch at his dark hair with a hiss of pleasure.

Savoring and suffering through more of Saal's kisses and caresses, Peter felt his control slipping and he knew he had to act fast.

Using both hands, he shoved hard at Saal, making him back up a step, and bought himself just enough time to pull the shirt off him as well, but not enough to admire the sight as the Denarian reached for him again.

More kisses, hard and messy, which somehow ended with them tumbling down on the bed.

Saal's heavy weight landed on top of Peter, oh that felt just too nice, but he quickly flipped them over and rolled his hips eagerly against the dark haired man to make him lose himself in the pleasure. That, however, backfired when Saal wrapped his legs around him and pushed hard back up against him.

Peter moaned, physically unable to keep silent, and placed one hand to his hip to encourage that move one more time.

Saal happily obliged and Peter knew that he wouldn't be the only one with bruises on his hips after this as his fingers were beginning to ache from their grip on the soldier.

He tried to gather his wits, remember how to slow things down and enjoy the moment, but Saal was like a living furnace underneath him, all hellfire hot and demanding.

The man's mouth was kissing and biting, his hands were everywhere and pulling at his clothes, and Peter found himself reduced to the clumsy, stupidly eager boy he'd once been when he'd tumbled with his first partner. If he had been capable of thought, he would have been horrified, but all he could do was feel the hands on his body, Saal's usually so clean shaven chin scraping stubbles up his neck and the strong legs tightening around his hips.

Managing to separate long enough to get the rest of their clothes off and for Peter to dig out his favorite bottle of lube from the pile of clothes was even more difficult, but preparing the other man was close to impossible.

Saal kept moving against him, kissing him and urging him on with sharp little orders. "Come on. Now. Now, now, now."

As Peter really, really didn't want to hurt him, it was a battle not to give in until he was certain they were both ready for it.

Sinking into the heat, feeling Saal's arms and legs going around him, Peter exhaled a shuddering sigh and he realized that he lost everything resembling control in the situation. He was nowhere in charge anymore, somehow that had changed since their first meeting, and when Saal growled an order for him to move and move hard, he did. 

He would probably do just about anything Denarian Saal asked him to, in or out of bed... 

Waves of pleasure crashed over him every time Peter moved against Saal, who kept ordering him on and meeting him at every push.

Both were now breathing hard, choking back moans and struggling to get a hold of sweat sleek skin and yet it kept on building.

-

Even as Peter was thrusting hard enough to push the air out of Saal's lungs, the dark haired man kept urging him on for more.  
And he got more. And even more.

Everything they hadn't said, everything they couldn't say, was in those moves.  
Everything they could never have together drowned in the overwhelming desire, now threatening to fry Saal's brain for good.

It felt like Peter hit that perfect spot on every snap of his hips, making Saal's muscles grow even more tense and the sheets bunching underneath him as he was pushed further up the bed.  
He lost his ability to speak completely at some point and shut his eyes tight to really feel the whirlwind of raw sensations. 

Even if their lives, their minds, could never be compatible, they were perfect like this.

Just like their release was.  
There was no warning, it just suddenly tore out of him, and Saal could only hold on tight while Peter never slowed or gentled his movements, making it even more overwhelming.  
It didn't take long for Peter to follow, shuddering hard and gasping for air until they were both sated.

Saal didn't object to him simply flopping over on his back next to him, they were too hot and out of breath for anything else, but he did notice with some satisfaction that Peter made sure to let his fingers rest by Saal's wrist.

"Not that... I'm complaining," Peter panted. "At. All." There was a breathless little laugh. "But, uh... what... was that?"

Saal failed to fight off a small, embarrassed smile at the ceiling. "I felt like it..."

"Really?" There was a second laugh. "Well, please... feel like that... again, anytime, Saal... Any. Time." Peter's fingers gingerly moved to gently circle his wrist and give a light, trying squeeze.

Saal turned his head to glance over at him. "Garthan. My name is Garthan."

Blinking, Peter seemed to process the information for a moment then he moved over on his side to face him. "Garthan..."

"Our given names are only used by relatives or... other selected few. And only in very informal settings. In private." Saal mumbled between breaths, suddenly embarrassed, and he couldn't face Peter anymore so he went back at staring at the ceiling. "It's our culture."

Fingertips took a gentle hold of his chin and Saal couldn't object when Peter turned his face back to his.  
The Terran was smiling, a smile that went straight to Saal's heart, and he gave a small, approving nod. "Garthan." 

And then he kissed him. 

It was so soft and gentle, such a stark contradiction to what they had just been doing, that it made Saal dizzy.

Gamora had been right. How the hell had he missed picking up on this? There was no doubt as to the affection in that kiss or those green eyes.

Peter Quill cared, every bit as much as Saal, and while it brought a delirious joy, it also made several warning bells go off in the Denarian's mind.

"You spoke to Nova Prime, didn't you?" Saal abruptly stated, as the logical conclusion to the lack of rescue suddenly appeared in his mind.

Peter smirked. "Maybe." He moved down to rest his head on Saal shoulder and got comfortable. "Would be bad for business to have a tail of Nova Corps fighters after us while on a secret mission. So I might have sent her a message that I was... borrowing you for some greater cause."

Sighing resigned as the Terran clearly had no shame, Saal still brought an arm up to wrap around him. "We need to set some ground rules, Peter Quill."

The man made an unhappy sound and curled up closer. "I hate rules."

"What a surprise," Saal snarked, then added: "You could have just told me you had spoken to her."

"Where would the fun be in that?"

A moment of silence passed before Saal spoke again. "I won't help you, you know," he said quietly. "I can't break the law. Not even for you."

"You always sound so certain," Peter replied in a carefully neutral voice. "Must be nice to know everything."

Not everything, Saal thought. He had no idea how he'd gotten himself into this mess or how to get out of it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You know what your problem is?" Peter asked, sitting down next to Gamora and raising his eyebrows at Rocket. "You need to get more fun out of life!"  
> "I'm a funny guy!" Rocket objected. "What ain't fun is looking at your naked ass!"  
> Peter shrugged and took another bite out of the weird fruit. "There are those who would object to that statement."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: based solely on the movie!

Returning to the common room, Peter found Rocket, Gamora and Groot by the center table and, as per usual, in the middle of a loud discussion.

"That's not what I'm saying!" Rocket stated, waving a screwdriver at Gamora to make his point.

"What are you saying?" Peter asked absently as he entered and walked over to the table, picking up a strangely colored fruit from a bowl and sniffing it before taking a big bite.

"That if you two intend to be banging for the rest of the trip now, I ain't covering for your shift! And no re-run of catching you, Peter, with your pants down as you crazy kids decide to go at it outside your bunk, like on the mission to Borros," Rocket warned, now pointing an admonishing finger at Peter.

Turning, mid-laugh, Peter was just in time to see Saal freeze in the doorway with the most horrified expression on his face.

Oh dear, the guy had probably thought they had been the soul of discretion and that no one knew of their liaisons. Poor Saal. How was he supposed to know that Peter's life was an open book to his shipmates. Well, some of the lewd details, at least. Like how he'd never expected a stuck up Nova Force soldier to be that awesome in bed.

Peter felt a tiny jab of guilt as he saw the dark haired man turn a sickly shade of pale, spin around on his heel and dart off down the hall in a quick march.

Dammit, it wasn't like Peter had been bragging to an entire bar! And he only had to reveal it as he'd needed his crew's help for this mission and had been forced to explain his reasons for doing it.  
He hesitated for a second then ran after him.

"Wait," Peter called out, having to grab Saal's wrist to pull him to a halt and then pushed him lightly against the wall to keep him from marching off again. "Wait, wait, wait."

"You told them?!" Saal hissed, glancing over towards the common room as if he was worried that the entire crew was going to come running to point and laugh at him at any moment. "Why the bloody hell did you have to tell them?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Well, I had to give them a reason for wanting to kidnap, I mean, bring you on this, uhm, vacation!"

"Kidnap," Saal corrected in a sour voice. "And now they're going to tell everyone!"

"No, they won't," Peter scoffed. "They don't care if we're banging or not. They just want the job over with."

Saal yanked his arm free and rolled his shoulders to collect himself. "Right. Of course. Because they're used to the captain having a shag with whatever space-trash he picks up along the way!" 

Counting to ten, Peter reigned in his temper and abruptly cupped Saal's face between his hands to make sure he was focused on him and not scouting for an imaginary mocking-party. "They. Don't. Care. Why? Because it's not their business." He tried a smile. "Us criminals? We're pretty good at minding our own business and not judging others for theirs."

Saal hesitated, his eyes flickering and he shifted his weight uneasily. "They're going to think I'm just one of your ..."

Peter shook his head with a faint smile. "Nope." He dared to stroke his thumb along Saal's cheekbone in a fond caress. "You charged into battle with Ronan. You faced fire and survived. Hell, you even trained with Drax and survived." That brought a smile from the other man as well. "You're a soldier, Saal. Strong and obnoxiously moral. You even saved our collective asses from the Reavers. That's what they 'know', okay?"

The words seemed to have a calming effect and Peter was relieved when Saal raised a hand to cover his and gave a faint nod.

"Now they just happen to know you're also amazing in bed," Starlord added with a shrug.

Saal made a frustrated sound and slapped his hands away, but at least he stalked back towards the common room and there was a particularly enticing blush crawling up the back of his neck.  
Chuckling, Peter followed and took his time as the view of the dark haired man in civilian clothing was such a nice sight. "What? It's true!"

-

It took no small amount of courage for Saal to walk back into that room, but a defiant scan of the three beings there revealed none of the mockery he expected.

Rocket barely glanced at him before glaring at Peter again, stating: "I mean it, man! No running around without pants!"  
Gamora was watching him with a slight smile, true, but there was nothing cruel about her amusement.  
Groot... looked asleep, actually. Did plants sleep?

Peter shuffled pass Saal, nudging him with his shoulder while doing so, and picked up the fruit he'd dropped on the table before chasing after Saal. "Yeah, yeah, dude."

The Denarian watched them warily for a bit longer, but when no mockery came, he slowly lowered his shoulders and wandered over to find himself something to drink.

"You know what your problem is?" Peter asked, sitting down next to Gamora and raising his eyebrows at Rocket. "You need to get more fun out of life!"

"I'm a funny guy!" Rocket objected. "What ain't fun is looking at your naked ass!"

Peter shrugged and took another bite out of the weird fruit. "There are those who would object to that statement."

Saal was in the middle of downing a glass of water when he knew, just knew, that everyone was staring at him after that sentence. Swallowing, he glanced over and, yes, they were.

Peter, waiting for him to defend his naked ass, Rocket, waiting for him to confirm the unattractiveness of Peter's naked ass, and Gamora simply waiting to be further entertained while being completely indifferent to whose naked ass got burned.

Saal drew a slow breath, put the glass down on the counter and then calmly walked out of the room and into the cockpit.  
He could hear the argument breaking out between Peter and Rocket again as he left the room and he sighed the sigh of a long suffering man before sinking down into the co-pilot seat.

Drax, currently on watch duty, glanced over at him.

"How do you not throw those two out into open space?" Saal asked with sincerity.

"It is a daily struggle," was the reply.

Settling in the seat, Saal picked up a discarded book and studied it. He'd never heard the title before, probably some book from Terra, and eventually started leafing through it.  
He needed some peace and quiet. Just a little calm after everything that had happened.  
There was so much to process. So very much to consider. There would be decisions to be made...

Drifting in and out between his own thoughts and the book, Saal barely glanced up when Drax left and Rocket climbed up to take his seat. 

Luckily the raccoon took the hint and didn't start chattering away like he had a tendency to do.

Finally, hours later, his mind had settled enough to endure more chaos and Saal got up, stretching until he heard his bones creak after hours in the same chair, and gave Rocket a light pat on the shoulder as he passed him as a token of his gratitude for the silence.

"Just in time," Gamora stated as Saal had hoped he could sneak through the common room and escape to the sleeping quarters to continue reading his book.   
Turned out it was rather interesting after all. Some group of people travelling to destroy some ring.

"In time for what?" Saal asked warily, eyeing her, Drax and Peter with mistrust. "Exactly."

The assassin sent him a dazzling smile. "Quill here was just about to teach us a card game from Terra."

"Poker!" Peter exclaimed merrily, shuffling a deck of cards with alarming skill.

Saal frowned, not reassured. "What does that include?" He paused before adding, "exactly."

"No faith," Peter lamented. "No faith whatsoever." But he did explain the rules and Saal reluctantly agreed to try a few rounds. 

Drax had a miserable poker face, as he would start up a gleeful cackling every time he got a good hand.   
Gamora would freeze up at anything better than a pair of aces, staring frantically at her cards and not replying when spoken to. It wasn't a surprise that Peter himself was pretty good at it...

-

Peter was surprised that Saal caught on to the game so fast.  
The man used his expressionless soldier-face to perfection and Starlord had a pretty hard time reading him, no matter how he tried to goad him with words.

They played for a long while until Drax had enough of them 'mysteriously' knowing whenever he had a good hand and Gamora decided that they'd call it quits before it escalated into violence.

Gathering the cards with a slight sulk, Peter glared over at the smug Drax. Damn party-pooping muscle-mountain...  
He had been SO close to airing his suggestion that they'd switch over to strip-poker, dammit!

Gamora stated that she was going to get started on kitchen duty, it was her turn that night, may the gods be with them all, but Peter only paid attention when Saal offered to help her.  
Accepting his aid with a smile, Gamora began to explain what her grand plans were for tonight's meal and Starlord found himself free to study Saal without the soldier noticing for once.

The man had been onboard the ship for a brief period, but he already seemed at home there. Even if his eyes betrayed conflicting emotions, Saal's shoulders were relaxed and he seemed to have forgotten all about his scars. And he was currently acting, as always, as the gentleman he was. It made Peter want to go down on him in the middle of the common room.

"He is a good choice," Drax' voice suddenly said, snapping Peter out of his thoughts.

Glancing over at him, Starlord couldn't hide his confusion. "What?"

Drax nodded towards Saal. "The Denarian. A good choice." He nodded with approval. "Big. Strong."

Somewhere between proud that Saal had gained Drax' approval and oddly embarrassed, Peter shifted uneasily on his chair. "Yeah, he is. He's, uhm, a good man."

"Why do you make that sound like a problem?" Drax asked.

Dammit, for a simple guy, Drax could be freakishly perceptive at times.

Peter sighed. "Because I'm not." He waved a hand to clarify. "A good man."

"I do not understand. You helped defeat Ronan. How does that not make you a good man?"

Raising his eyebrows, Peter gave a light shrug. "Because I sometimes like to bend the rules a bit..."

Drax considered the words for a while before speaking. "This is the 'crimes' and 'illegal' things they speak of?"

"Yeah," Peter replied. "And he's pretty set on people following those rules. No matter what."  
If only his voice didn't sound so wistful, like a pining Romeo.

Drax got up and placed a heavy hand on Peter's shoulder. "You are a good man, Peter Quill."

Surprised, Peter gave a little nod. "Thanks, man." Now, if only he could get Saal to see that as well...

As Drax walked away, Peter glanced back at the dark haired man in question. Saal might not see him as a good man, not yet, but he had chosen to give Peter his name. That had to mean something, right? Even as a criminal, that had to mean something!

The rest of the evening passed without any big events, luckily Gamora's cooking was improving, but Peter was almost relieved when it was his turn to take a shift in the pilot seat.   
Starlord spent hours staring out at the stars and wondered why they still insisted on having day-time and night-time in space when everything was dark all the time.

When the time came for Gamora to take over, he merely nodded at her and headed for bed, too tired for actual conversation.

Entering the dark room, Peter undressed to sleep in his t-shirt and boxers, but once he approached the bed, he hesitated. 

Saal appeared asleep, on his side, and while Starlord was even too tired for any lewdness, he couldn't help but to admire the sight while wondering what to do.  
He wasn't entirely too sure how to approach this, as the bed was small and Saal was occupying a lot of it.

Taking a step closer, Peter froze when the Denarian rolled over on his back to open one eye to peer at the intruder. Clearly reassured, the eye closed again and there was a sleepy sigh.  
Peter still hesitated, but then Saal lifted the sheets as an invite.

It felt far, far too easy to curl up to the warm form and enjoy the strong arm going around him to hold him close, but Peter merely decided to savor the moment instead of thinking too much.

He could hear Saal's strong and calm heartbeats as Peter rested his head on his chest. He could feel every lulling rise and fall of the chest as he breathed. It was probably what contentment felt like.

-

Slowly emerging from the land of sleep, Saal took once again a few seconds to remember where he was and what had happened.  
Only this time he remembered Peter appearing in the middle of the night and crawling into bed with him.

Saal glanced over, strangely curious to finally be allowed to wake up with the Terran there and have it confirmed it hadn't been some strange dream, but he was once again bitterly disappointed when he found the mattress next to him empty.

Staring up at the ceiling with a sigh, telling himself it didn't really matter, Saal noted his back was complaining after he'd spent much of the night in the same position and was about to move over on his side when he suddenly noticed something weighing him down.  
He frowned with confusion and lifted the sheets to peer underneath.

There, under the sheets and curled up tight, was Peter Quill, fast asleep, using Saal's stomach as a pillow.

What the...? Saal was about to call out for him when suddenly a piece of half-forgotten information got pushed forward inside his head, compliments of the Nova Force.

Children raised in criminal environments, like the space pirates, were often taught to sleep under the sheets or under the beds, so in case of an attack it would throw off the enemy and buy them time.

Saal was aching to reach out and draw a hand through the unruly locks on Peter's head, as if he could soothe what he'd gone through as a child, but chose to gently lower the sheets again and let the man sleep in peace.

Drifting in and out of sleep himself, Saal eventually felt there was movement from the other man.

Peter made a sleepy grunt, rubbing his stubbly cheek against Saal's stomach and the soldier couldn't help an instinctive squirm while choking down a laugh. He was ticklish? He hadn't known...  
That obviously woke Peter up and the Denarian could only feel a lazy flicker of arousal as the Terran began inching his way up his body. 

Finally Peter's head appeared from out under the sheets, his usually unruly hair now a complete mess and his eyes soft with sleep. "Hey," he mumbled and sank down to simply lie on top of him, his cheek against Saal's collarbone. "Morning."

"Morning," Saal answered in a gentle voice. He finally got to draw a hand through Peter's hair, pushing some of the wild locks away from his face, and let his hand dwell behind the Terran's neck, stroking his thumb over his nape. 

More moments passed, neither moving. 

"This is nice," Peter finally slurred.

Saal made an approving hum, strangely enough in no hurry to move himself. 

"Yo! Peter! Wake up!" Rocket's voice suddenly sounded from out in the hallway, way too loud this early in the morning. "Toku is on the comm! Get your ass out of bed and git to the cockpit!"

"Yeah, alright!" Peter yelled back, not moving an inch and making Saal flinch at that much loudness up close. "Lemme get my damn clothes on!"

"Two minutes!" Rocket warned. Silence fell over them again but there was no movement.

Saal was about to prod a finger at the ribs of the lethargic Terran when Peter stretched against him, pressing a couple of warm and lingering kisses to his throat, just enough to wake that flicker of arousal again, before rolling off and getting out of bed. 

Clearing his throat, Saal scooted back up on the bed to sit with his back against the bedhead and watched the other man get dressed. "Who is Toku?"

Peter sent him a quick grin before focusing on his task of getting dressed again. "He's the guy who is waiting for our cargo."

Saal frowned. "Oh." 

"I need to go and confirm the final details on our little deal," Peter explained, sitting down on the bed to pull on his boots.

Saal didn't say anything, hoping Peter would pick up on the disapproval radiating from him and knew he did as the Terran grinned wickedly, stole a kiss and darted out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The flames kept crawling closer, the heat was unbearable, and no matter how much Saal tried to lean away there was no place to go. He called out for help, but there was no one who could reach him.   
> It was getting hard to breathe, the fire was devouring the oxygen and he was pinned down by the front of his ship being pushed in further and further against him. There was no escape.

Toku was nervous, Peter couldn't exactly blame him, but eventually things were confirmed and they were good to continue with the plan.

He didn't want to think too closely at how much their success was depending on Saal's reaction ...

And, speaking of the devil, the Denarian took forever and a day to appear in the common room.   
The man sent him a chilled look, clearly not happy about being reminded that they were on a mission to break the law, so Peter bribed him with freshly heated rolls for breakfast.

That seemed to thaw him up a little, but it was Gamora dragging him off for her own training session with him which distracted Saal completely.

Peter was quick to follow and find his seat on the crate to savor the sight as the two got ready at opposite sides of the cargo room.

Saal shed the dark jacket he was wearing, once again deciding to fight in his undershirt, tightened the laces on his boots and rolled his shoulders a couple of times before stepping forward.  
Gamora stripped down to a tank top and her army pants before meeting the soldier with her feet bare and a razor sharp smile on her lips.

Drax had surprised the Denarian by being fast despite his big size, but Gamora was even quicker.

Peter could see Saal taking the hits and storing information on her movements as they sparred, but Starlord noted with smug satisfaction that as long as the man insisted on fighting fair, he'd never defeat the assassin.

Gamora, just like Peter, fought to win. Dirty tricks and all.

It was only a bit confusing of which one of them he was feeling jealous of as Peter saw Gamora jump up, wrap her magnificent thighs around Saal's neck and sending him flying to land hard on his back with her basically straddling his throat in ways Peter had only dreamed of.

The Denarian did get the upper hand whenever he managed to grab a hold of the woman though and the two seemed almost too friendly once they decided to call it quits.

Peter watched in silence as the soldier and the assassin walked pass him, wondering if Saal was even aware of winning over one of Peter's crew after another.  
Probably not.

Yet the surprises kept coming that day as Saal later declared he was doing dinner. He mumbled something about none of them having a culinary gene between them and started working on some meal that soon had all the crew members looming nearby and sniffing the air like starving Bilgesnipes.

Peter was physically unable to keep from grinning as the food turned out to taste every bit as good as it smelled and Saal would only duck his head a little under the praise that followed from every soul around the table.

Starlord was starting to hope, against his own better judgment, that this mission might have a happy ending after all...

Especially as a bottle of beer suddenly appeared in front of him after he'd settled into the pilot seat for a late shift. Glancing up, Peter took a hold of the bottle and gave his winning smile. "Thanks."

Saal nodded amiably and moved over to sink down in the co-pilot seat.

Taking a sip of the beer, Peter gazed over at him and noted the relaxed posture. "So where did you learn to cook like that?"

Shrugging, Saal absently picked at the label on his beer bottle. "I've spent a few years in the army, remember? You learn to make the best out of what you got. Just a matter of imagination."

"That's not what I use my imagination on," Peter replied with a slight grin.

Saal huffed a laugh, somewhere between amused and resigned. "I'm too scared to ask."

Peter had to laugh as well, leaning back to take another swallow from the beer bottle.

They settled into a comfortable silence for a while, but eventually Peter saw Saal starting to nod off and told him to head back to the room.  
Starlord would be lying if he claimed he didn't turn a little giddy when the Denarian declined and declared he was perfectly fine right where he was.

-

The flames kept crawling closer, the heat was unbearable, and no matter how much Saal tried to lean away there was no place to go. He called out for help, but there was no one who could reach him. 

It was getting hard to breathe, the fire was devouring the oxygen and he was pinned down by the front of his ship being pushed in further and further against him. There was no escape.

The Denarian desperately turned his face away, unable to watch as the hull of his ship buckled and brought the flames through the power shield and straight towards him! 

He could feel the fire eating at his skin and his entire body shook with raw agony as he SCREAMED.

Saal remembered a flash of orange, kind of like a power shield flashing into existence, then everything went black.

"Hey!" A voice called out. "Saal, wake up!"

Starting awake, Saal drew a sharp breath and flinched back in the co-pilot chair as the echo of his dream still shuddered through him.

Peter was kneeling by his side and tugging at his arm. "Hey..."

Gazing over at him, breathing hard to shake the final slivers of fear, Saal tried to gather himself enough to become the calm Denarian again. "Sorry, I..."

"Dreaming, yeah," Peter said with a sympathetic smile, squeezing his arm lightly. "I kinda got that." He hesitated. "The crash?"

Saal was still shaking from the nightmare and didn't really want to show more vulnerability, but his brain was still too scrambled to conjure up a decent lie. In the end he just nodded.

Peter reached up and placed a gentle hand to the scarred side of Saal's face. "It's okay," he whispered.

Closing his eyes, Saal shivered. "No. No, it's not." Things would never be okay again.

"Garthan," Peter said the name so softly it made Saal open his eyes again to look at him.   
The Terran moved up to press an equally soft kiss to his lips. "It's okay, Garthan."

Saal reached up to place a hand behind Peter's neck and pulled him back for a second kiss. And a third. And a forth...

Eventually Peter climbed up to straddle his lap, but neither man went for anything more than soft, almost chaste, kisses.

The warm push and ease of Peter's lips against his made Saal's heart calm down for once and he sighed quietly when he finally leaned back to gaze up at him.

Peter was still looking concerned, his fingertips brushing lightly over the ruined skin as if he could heal it, so Saal had to press one more kiss to his lips before mumbling an apologizing thanks.

"For a clever guy, you can be quite the idiot," Peter stated affectionately, pulling him into a hug.

Chuckling quietly, Saal wrapped his own arms around the Terran and rested his head on his shoulder. "I know."

He felt Peter carding his hand through his hair in slow, calming moves and suddenly the nightmare seemed like a distant thing.  
He felt, of all things, safe.

It was completely irrational! Here he was with a criminal, one who kept making his life far more complicated than it needed to be and who intended to include him in illegal activity as well! It made no logical sense for Garthan Saal to feel like this! But he did.

He wasn't sure how long they sat like that, but slowly the heat and the tempting scent of the Terran seeped into his senses, replacing fear with want, and Saal leaned back to meet his eyes.

Peter raised his eyebrows in a quizzical manner and the Denarian reached up to cup his face, noting with approval the stubbles against his palms, before pulling him into a very different kiss from the earlier ones.

Saal was even more delighted to feel Peter catching on pretty fast and soon they were locked in deep, teasing kisses, but without the usual impatience which tended to emerge between them.  
For now it was just about touching, feeling and enjoying as they built up momentum.

Occasionally Peter would trail kisses down Saal's neck, making him tilt his head to give him better access, noticing how he would not shy away from placing the same attention to his ruined side. 

In the middle of a deep kiss, Saal ran his hands up Peter's arms, over his shoulders and down his back in a shameless display at how much he liked what he could feel under those clothes and that he wanted it closer when suddenly a voice cut in.

"Is this what you call 'keeping watch', guys?" Gamora said with badly veiled amusement.

Starting violently, Saal released Peter abruptly and flinched backwards, causing the Terran to flail with his arms for a second before losing balance and ending up on his ass on the floor.

-

"Ow," Peter muttered, sitting up and glaring at Gamora.

The assassin was leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed and a smile of pure evil on her lips.

Saal had his eyes tightly shut, looking like a man praying for a hole in the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

"It's called multi-tasking!" Peter declared in his defense, getting up on his feet. 

Gamora raised her eyebrows and nodded, clearly faking being impressed. "Really?"

Giving up, Peter sent her a flat look. "What do you want? Why are you here?"

The woman dropped pretences too and laughed softly. "Couldn't sleep. Figured I'd ask you if you wanted me to take over a little early." She sent the co-pilot chair a meaningful look. "I guess that's a 'yes', huh?"

Peter snorted a laugh. "Hell yeah!" He reached out and slapped Saal's shoulder. "You heard the lady. Come on!"

The Denarian had been doing his best to sink into the chair and shrank even further at the touch. 

Rolling his eyes, Peter grabbed a hold of the man's upper arm and yanked him to his feet. "Up you go, big boy." He guided him out of the room as Saal seemed unable to take his eyes off his shoes and Peter sent Gamora a wide grin of gratitude as they passed her.

Saal remained tense and quiet until they reached the room and the door closed behind them.

"I don't believe this...!" The Denarian despaired, sinking down to sit on the bed and stare emptily ahead. "By the time I get off this ship, I will have absolutely NO dignity left. None."

Chuckling softly, Peter shed his leather jacket and walked over to him. "So?" He swung a leg over Saal's legs and straddled his lap again, this time rolling his hips suggestively against him. "Live a little, officer."

Saal's eyes narrowed and he seemed to be considering the words a little too carefully for Peter's taste so he decided to taste the Denarian's mouth instead.

The first kiss only got a hesitant response, the echo of Gamora's voice clearly still ringing in his ears, but the tension slowly bled out of him and somewhere among the kisses that followed, Peter could feel Saal's arms sliding around his waist and urging him closer.  
But, as they continued kissing and exploring, it felt different from the other times, lacking the usual impatience between them.

Peter had always loved sex, he would have it any way and any time, but this kind of slow-burn was new even to him. He wasn't used to being touched like he was something valuable...

Even getting undressed was slow and lazy affair. Saal's skin felt warm and flawless under his touch and even more perfect against his own bare skin.

There was no lack of desire between them, but it seemed like they had all the time in the galaxy. Peter barely noticed he'd ended up on his back on the bed, his head on the pillows, as he was far too lost in the feeling of it all. Saal even had to repeat his question before it got through to Peter's muddled brain and he flailed one hand in the direction of the nightstand in response.

Despite having had only one lesson, the dark haired man knew exactly what to do, which meant he either was an excellent student or had an amazing teacher. Probably an amazing teacher.  
When Saal's fingers brushed by the spot that made Peter arch off the bed with a choked sound, he decided that, okay, maybe it could be a bit of both.  
And by the time the fingers were replaced with something else, Peter decided it didn't matter.

All that mattered was how good it felt, how good Saal felt.

The broad shoulders, feeling how his muscles worked while he moved against him and the taste of his sweat, it all made Peter wrap himself even tighter around him to make sure he wasn't just dreaming.

Starlord learned from a very young age, the hard way, that if he wanted something, he would have to take it for himself and on the extremely rare occasion he was given something, it would eventually be taken away from him.

-

Placing a hand to Peter's hip, Saal soon discovered that by adjusting the angle he could actually control when he would hit what made Peter twitch and dig his fingers into the Denarian's back, but even then neither seemed in a hurry to speed things up.

Saal kept his thrust slow and gentle, savoring the responses given by Peter's body for quite a while, until the Terran pushed for him to roll over and followed without breaking their rhythm even as he sat up.

Placing his hands to Saal's chest, Peter switched between rolling his hips and lifting them up to slide back down, making the want coil tight in the soldier's lower belly.

The new position did free Saal's own hands to explore and caress the other man and he decided to take full advantage of that.  
Beginning with the strong thighs straddling his hips, up the flat stomach, measuring the full expanse of Peter's oh so nice chest, lingering perhaps a little on a hard nipple, up to round the shoulders and down the powerful arms to the hands on his own chest.

Peter Quill was a physical masterpiece, and judging by the faint smile radiating smugness he managed to send the Denarian, he was fully aware of it too.

It was only when Saal's fingers curled around Peter's cock that the Terran had to bite his lower lip to prevent a moan from escaping and his hips stuttered for a moment.

Saal suddenly had to steal a kiss from those lips and sat up to claim them, not releasing his grip and sliding his other arm behind Peter's lower back to keep him close.  
The Ravager responded by wrapping his legs around his waist, his arms around Saal's neck and drew him into a lewd kiss that made them both heady with need.

Using his arm around Peter's back to keep him moving, Saal made sure to hit that spot as much as possible, while he changed between moving his hand on Peter's cock or sliding his thumb teasingly over the tip.

He could feel the Terran growing tenser and breathing harder and Peter even went as far as hiding his face next to his, but just as Saal thought it honestly couldn't get any better, Peter shivered and gave a broken whimper against his temple.

It was the most amazing sound he'd ever heard in his life.

Continuing his movements, Saal closed his eyes briefly as Peter unknowingly hugged him tighter while his legs were trembling with tension around the Denarian.   
And that was when he felt the Terran cover their stomachs with sticky heat, twitching helplessly and choking down a groan. 

Peter's fingers dug into his back as he kept pressing himself impossibly close while riding out those last waves of glorious bliss, but Saal couldn't stand it anymore and quickly flipped him over on his back to chase his own release.  
Despite how he probably was hyper-sensitive by now, there was no objection, Peter just kept trying to pull him even closer.

Saal turned into a shivering mess himself once euphoria hit and he was moving more by instinct than any conscious decision until the pleasure ebbed and all strength left his body.

Strangely relieved he didn't have to consider a fragile frame, Saal slumped carelessly on top of Peter and was rewarded with the Terran sliding his hands up and down his back with long, calming strokes.

"That's it," Peter panted against Saal's neck. "I'm chaining you to this bed."

Saal snorted a laugh, knowing the man was just trying to inflate his ego, but still couldn't help but to feel slightly flattered. "I think you would tire of me pretty fast."

The hands halted for a few seconds before starting up their stroking again. "No. No, I think you would actually stay interesting, man."

Saal almost wished he could believe that...  
-

The following morning, Saal emerged from sleep and didn't have the usual first confusing moments of where he was and what was going on.   
He wasn't even disappointed at Peter being nowhere in sight. He had a pretty good suspicion of where he'd find the man...

Saal had turned on his side during the night and he glanced down to see he'd either grown a worrying amount of sandy colored chest-hair or Peter had slid under the sheets again and curled up to him, hiding his face to the soldier's chest.

Smiling resigned, Saal noted how he himself had positioned himself to become a living barrier for the Terran to hide behind and feel safe enough to sleep.

He gently stroke a hand up Peter's back, letting it rest behind his neck when the touch woke up the Ravager and he unfolded against Saal with a sleepy grunt.

"Morning," Saal mumbled, moving over on his back as Peter pushed against him and then draped himself over the soldier's chest, giving another grunt in reply.  
It made the smile on Saal's face grow even wider and his hand returned to lightly rub at Peter's neck. "Why am I not surprised you're not a morning person?"

Peter didn't reply and after a few moments of silence Saal suddenly realized the man had fallen back to sleep. He honestly didn't know whether to feel offended or flattered.

Snorting a laugh, the dark haired man wrapped an arm around Peter and easily hauled him off to land on the mattress next to him. "I'm hungry. You want something?"

Blinking away the confusion at his sudden change of mattress, Peter then managed, somehow, to send him a lewd glance despite looking slightly comatosed.

It brought another laugh from Saal, who wisely got out of bed before the man could put his hands on him and change his mind. "Go back to sleep, you pervert. That's not what I meant."

Grumbling annoyed when he realized Saal was out of reach, Peter slumped back into the pillows and burrowed into them.

Saal got dressed, deciding to skip the jacket that morning. No point in hiding the scars on his arm and neck as they'd all seen them by now and no one seemed to care. He cast a final glance at the sleeping man before leaving and headed for the common room.

Gamora was standing by the counter, sipping a glass with some kind of purple liquid, and the Denarian could feel his face burning with embarrassment at her knowing smile, but he forced himself to continue on his mission of finding food.

Minutes later Drax joined them as well, complaining about how the cargo room was not big enough for him to do proper training sessions.

Saal eventually finished up with his breakfast and was in the middle of considering whether or not to bring something back to the room for Peter when there was the sound of shuffling steps.  
Glancing over, he was surprised to see the man in question entering the common room.

True, Peter still looked more asleep than anything, but at least he was dressed and walking around.

Saal turned back to the counter to hide his amused smile and was in the middle of rinsing his cup when suddenly arms went around his waist and a body slumped forward to rest against his back.

Freezing, the Denarian blinked in confusion a couple of times before glancing down at the arms and back at their owner to realize Peter had merely dragged himself through the common room and attached himself to Saal.

There was a moment of panic, where Saal was about to shove him away and bolt out of the room, but he forced the impulse away and stole a glance over at Gamora and Drax.   
Thanks to Peter, it was no secret that they were having a... whatever they were having, but were public displays of affection like this allowed on this ship? Would it be met with disdain or mockery?

Drax merely stomped pass them, placing a couple of massive blades on the counter, getting himself something to drink and seemed completely indifferent to what was happening.  
As for Gamora, well... She'd seen them more intimate than this and seemed both focused and annoyed at Drax' complaining at the moment.

Saal was almost scared to breathe, but he slowly raised a hand to place it over Peter's arm when Rocket's voice cut through his thoughts.

"We're here."

And just like that, Peter released him abruptly and Saal noted with concern that the Terran was suddenly one hundred percent awake as he gazed at the raccoon in the doorway to the cockpit.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walking into the cockpit, Peter barely noted that everyone else followed as well, his eyes were merely locked on the planet they were now approaching  
> Play time was over.  
> He just wished he didn't feel so nervous about what he had to do. It could ruin everything..

Walking into the cockpit, Peter barely noted that everyone else followed as well, his eyes were merely locked on the planet they were now approaching.

Play time was over. 

He just wished he didn't feel so nervous about what he had to do. It could ruin everything...

Gamora got into the pilot seat, Rocket climbed up into the co-pilot seat, and Peter stood between them, having to use every ounce of his willpower not to look over at Saal.  
When they were close enough, security was quick to hail them on the communication line.

Answering their call, Gamora stated the ship's name, number and their reason for going to the planet called Ariel: Denarian Saal.

In his peripheral vision, Peter could see Saal start, but luckily the man remained quiet even if he did cross his arms and his entire form radiated tension.

Predictably the security guy asked for Saal's ID card and Peter pulled the card out of his own pocket and held it out for Gamora to take.

Saal drew a sharp breath and his hand flew to his pocket, but found it empty.  
Peter had always been a smooth operator when it came to pick-pocketing, but he'd been surprised that Saal hadn't noticed the card going missing the very day he was brought on board.  
For a man who despised criminals, he sure did trust them, but what Peter had just done would probably change that though...

For a very tense moment, the card was in the open as Gamora waited to take it, giving Saal the opportunity to interfere.

Starlord kept his gaze on the card, waiting and hoping.

Finally Saal exhaled, clearly angry, but crossed his arms again to signal that he was keeping out of it.

Plausible deniability, Peter reckoned. It might sting Saal's pride to admit his ID card had been stolen, but the guys at Ariel had no way of proving that Saal had been in on it.  
Clever boy. Prime had trained him well.

Gamora took the card, scanned it and sent the information.

A quick glance over at Saal revealed that the soldier was staring at the planet in front of them, clearly angry as hell, but Peter hoped the guy would simmer down by the time the mission was over and allow him to explain. He had to let him explain...

Suddenly the communication line came to life again and the security guy from Ariel started talking. "ID card received, but we're going to need Denarian Saal's authority code."

"Authority code?" Gamora asked, glancing over at Peter. "Why?"  
That was new. What had happened for them to change security protocol within a week?

"We had a break in at one of our major hospitals. Some criminals stole a ship-load of meds." The security guy sounded more than a little angry over this fact. "So we're gonna need them numbers."

"Incoming ships," Rocket suddenly stated, pointing at the fighters approaching them. "I'm guessing trigger-happy boarder control. Those thieves must have REALLY pissed them off!"

Peter cursed and straightened slightly. "If they board us and find that cargo..."

"We'll be shipped for Crematoria, at least," the raccoon growled. "Ain't no weapons on this ship either. We're a big, open target, man!"

Peter was about to tell Gamora to cut the communication link and haul ass out of there when suddenly Saal stepped up next to him, leaned down and pressed the co-pilot microphone on. "This is Denarian Saal. Authority code 11295-D17."

Stunned, Peter could only stare at him.

Saal was grim faced and gazed firmly straight ahead, waiting for the confirmation.

Finally the security guy spoke again. "Affirmative, Denarian Saal. Code accepted. Apologies. I just don't have you on my list of expected visitors so I had to check. May I ask for your destination?"

"Doctor Lindstrom, burn unit," Saal replied without hesitation.

"Affirmative, Denarian Saal," the security guy said. "Welcome to Ariel."

-

Saal straightened and watched as the fighter ships made a wide turn to head back to the planet. 

He felt empty. Like a big vacuum had opened inside him.

How could he have been so stupid? Quill never hid the fact that he intended to break the law and use Saal as the instrument for doing it, yet Saal had for some stupid, STUPID, reason trusted the Terran to not put him in the position where he'd have no choice.

If Ariel security had boarded them and found illegal cargo, then there would be no way for Saal to avoid getting involved in a scandal and Xandar did not need a diplomatic mess with Ariel right now.

Nova Prime had probably agreed to Peter's insane request because she had trusted Saal to keep a clear head and stay out of trouble. He couldn't face her again if she learned that instead of paying attention, Saal had been too busy shagging Quill.  
Too busy thinking he cared as well and wouldn't exploit Saal's hard earned title for his own gain.

Red hot rage suddenly flared up inside him and Saal spun around, grabbed Peter's shirt and slammed him against the nearest wall.

The Terran grunted at the impact, automatically grabbing Saal's wrists, but made no other moves.

"Now, you're going to land this ship," Saal stated with deadly calm. "Then I'm going to leave." He leaned a little closer, trembling with rage. "And I 'never' want to see your face again, Quill. If I do, I will shoot you."

Saal had once thought that meeting Peter Quill that night had been a good thing. That maybe the man could bring something other than the gloom Saal was wallowing in, but it turned out that Peter Quill was just after taking the only thing Garthan Saal had left: his honor in upholding the law.

From this moment, Denarian Saal was no better than the criminals he hunted. A law breaker.

Peter cleared his throat to regain his voice, sounding a little shaken, but strangely determined. "Sorry, but we still need your help." He squirmed a little. "We need to unload the cargo, four crates, fast as hell, before they come to check up on the ship. They know you were onboard so if we get caught with the crates, Saal, it's still gonna backfire on you, ok?"

An even hotter flare of pure fury flashed through Saal and he wasn't even aware of pulling his arm back to punch the Terran before it was caught in a strong grip.

Glancing over to his right, he saw Drax with a firm hold on Saal's wrist, and then a warning hand landed on his shoulder as Gamora stepped up on his left side as well.

Saal glared back at Peter, feeling the Nova Force humming under his skin, but he ended up releasing the Ravager and taking a step back.  
The sooner they got this over with, the sooner he was out of there.  
And the sooner he could try to forget about all of this. This one giant mess of a mistake of getting involved with a criminal!

He'd once advised Nova Prime not to trust Peter Quill and later asked Quill to prove him wrong.  
Saal realized with a bitter feeling that he'd just been proven right.

Shaking his head, he turned and walked out of the cockpit and headed for the cargo room.

There he waited for the ship to land so he could commit his second act of breaking the law with his own hands...

-

Peter was more than a little shaken as they made the final preparations for moving the crates.

He'd been prepared for anger, but not the raw hurt and even a flicker of hatred in Saal's eyes.

Trying to tell him he hadn't known about the authority code being needed and that he'd never meant to put him in that situation would be futile now. Any trust between them was gone.  
The man wouldn't listen if Peter told him it was impossible to breathe in space! 

All he could do was go through with the mission and hope Saal would let him explain afterwards.

He just couldn't face the alternative right now.

When Peter, Gamora and Drax entered the cargo room while Rocket was landing the ship, the Denarian was waiting for them down there.

Dragging the oblong crates from where they'd hidden them behind some other crates, Peter and Drax stacked them in two piles and he asked the big guy to team up with Saal. Something told him the Denarian wanted as little as possible to do with him right now.

Once the ramp opened, Peter and Gamora balanced two crates between them and lead the way, followed by Drax and Saal with the two other crates.

The area of the docking bay where Rocket had set the ship down was a dark and desolate place, perfect for moving cargo they didn't want anybody to see.  
Moving through the underbelly of Ariel, the poor neighborhood that no tourist got to see, Peter wondered if Saal had ever been to this part of the planet before, but the man was wearing his poker-face again so it was impossible to say.

They made their way through a myriad of back-alleys and Peter felt a flicker of relief when he finally saw the familiar black door where they'd do their little delivery.

Knocking on the door, Peter glanced around somewhat nervously, not needing anything else to go wrong, but everything seemed quiet with barely any people outdoors.

A few seconds later, the door opened an inch and someone peeked outside. Seeing Peter, the man behind the door opened it completely and lit up with relief. "Peter Quill!"

Peter nodded his greeting and motioned for them all to move indoors.  
Once inside, he and Gamora lowered the crates to the floor and turned to face the man called Toku while Drax and Saal stacked their crates on top as the door closed behind them. "Sorry we're late."

The man, an old and white haired person, shook his head. "No, no! Not at all! We cannot thank you enough for doing this!"

Peter glanced over at Saal, seeing the soldier glaring at them both, before focusing on Toku again. "Where are they?"

Toku grinned and moved over to open a door leading further into the building.

Once the door opened, a flood of children came running into the room. Drax and Gamora laughed as they were assaulted by their favorites, but Saal took a step back and blinked in wide-eyed confusion.

Taking his chance, Peter stepped over to him while keeping his eyes on the children milling around. "The government on Ariel is run by the medical companies so there is a complete ban on import of all kinds of medical drugs. They turn up the prices and those who cannot afford to pay, like these kids who don't have any parents to pick up the bill, they gotta turn to other ways to find medicine."

Saal shifted his wide-eyed stare over at him and Peter had to force himself to meet that gaze and tried giving him a faint smile. "Not all crime is bad, Saal," he said softly.

"Mr Quill!" Toku called out and came over to them, holding out an envelope. "I know you said you didn't want payment, but please accept these credits! It's not much, but..."

Peter shook his head. "No, man." Gamora would snap his neck if he accepted anything but gratitude. "Keep it. Save up for the next round of meds."

Saal gave a little shake of his head, like his brain had crashed and was trying to reboot, but the soldier was distracted by a little boy tugging at his hand and asking; "Who are you?"

Crouching down, Peter smiled at the boy. "This is Saa..." He quickly caught himself. "Sayan."  
Was that even a name?  
"Sayan here helped us bring more medicine," Peter explained, watching as the boy gazed up at Saal with awe.

By now, Saal was looking like he was suffering from physical pain.

"Thanks, Mister Sayan," the boy exclaimed before running over to join the pile of children trying to bring down a laughing Drax.

Peter glanced up at Saal just in time to see the dark haired man turn on his heel and flee out the door.

-

Stumbling outside, Saal gulped down several mouthfuls of air before raising his face towards the sky in an effort to get himself under control again.

"You okay there, soldier boy?" A voice said.

Starting, Saal spun around and found Rocket sitting on a trash can next to the black door. "W... what?"

"I said," Rocket leaned slightly forward, resting a rather large weapon across his knees, "are you okay? Looking a little green."

Saal shook his head, unable to sort out any of the million of thoughts and feelings going through him at the moment. Was he okay? "No. Not really."

Rocket nodded. "Good."

Blinking, Saal emerged a little from being dazed and abruptly pointed a finger at the door. "This? You could have told me!"

"Uh huh," Rocket mumbled, absently rubbing away a spot on the weapon. "Right. 'By the way, Denarian Saal, we're going to deliver some medicine, pro bono, for some poor orphans.'" He sent him a dry look. "Would you have believed us?"

Saal didn't even have to consider it. "No." He exhaled heavily in frustration. "But you could have told me. You should have told me!"

Rocket shook his head. "You could have asked. But you didn't, did you? No, because you automatically assumed that since we were involved and it was illegal, it had to be something horrible, huh? You didn't want to know."

Running both his hands through his hair, Saal felt the words burn. "I just..." He let his arms fall to his sides and shook his head helplessly. "How was I supposed to know...?"

"Because Peter told you," Rocket replied, not brimming with sympathy for what the Denarian was going through. "We're not one hundred percent dicks, remember?"

Saal was about to reply when the door opened and Peter froze in the doorway at the sight of the two of them. He slowly gazed from one to the other and finally ended up focusing on Rocket. "Everything okay?"

Rocket jumped down from the trash can. "Yeah. No worries. Got at least fifteen minutes before we need to be gone." He glanced a final time back at Saal, then disappeared in through the black door.

Peter seemed to hesitate, clearly debating with himself whether to go back inside or try to reason with Saal. In the end, the latter urge obviously won.  
The Terran stepped forward and closed the door behind him so the others couldn't hear them, then started poking at the ground with the tip of his boot. "Listen, Saal, I... The authority code, I didn't know. I never meant for you to get put in that situation. I'm... sorry about that."

And the worst part was that Saal believed him.

Managing a ghost of a wistful smile, he nodded towards the building. "Orphans, Peter? You couldn't find three-legged kittens raised by blind nuns...?"

Laughing quietly, Peter shrugged one shoulder. "Yondu always said that when you're making a point, make it clear."

Saal nodded. "That I'm a hypocrite who judges before he has his facts? Point taken."

"No," Peter objected, automatically taking a step towards him before checking himself and forcing himself still. "No, Saal. It's just that..." He sighed. "You tend to see things in black or white, but sometimes things might be grey. Or yellow. Or, or green! Or even yellow 'and' green!"

"Please don't try to convince me that delivering stuff like this to little orphans is all that you and your crew does," Saal drily declared and at least Peter had the decency to duck his head a little.

"I didn't say that, exactly," the Terran objected. "But we're not..."

"One hundred percent dicks," Saal interrupted. "Yeah. So I've been told." He crossed his arms and studied the ground. "So what happens now?"

"Now we return to the ship and head back for Xandar," Peter answered, before his gaze flickered uneasily "Unless... you still want to stay here?"

Saal shook his head. "No, I'm... Returning to the ship sounds good."

-  
Saying goodbye to the kids, Peter promised to stay in touch with Toku for when they could make the next haul and then he was heading back to the ship with the others in tow.

There was a tension in the air among them all and Peter was aching to touch Saal to make things right again.  
Not simply touching for sex, but just to touch him. To be allowed to touch him again. 

Peter had been considered trash, a low life and waste of space most of his life, but to experience Saal watching him with that kind of contempt... Starlord was desperate to make that look go away.  
He just couldn't wipe that memory from his mind and it was burning like acid inside him.

Entering the ship, Peter was about to follow Saal when the man disappeared inside the sleeping quarters, but Drax halted him with a heavy hand on his shoulder.

Peter sent him a quizzical look, but Drax merely shook his head.

"For once, I must agree with the thug," Gamora stated as she walked pass them. "Give the man some time, Peter. He needs to think and decide on a few things."

Clenching and unclenching his hands, Peter hesitated while the others walked on.  
His mind told him Drax and Gamora was right, but his heart was screaming for him to claw at Saal's door and grovel for forgiveness.

Not wanting to risk making things even worse, Peter decided to give Saal time. He could always beg later.

Entering the common room, Peter sat down by the table as the ship shuddering during take-off.

Gamora had taken the pilot seat. Rocket was on the opposite side of the table, gently scratching tiny Groot's head with a claw as compensation for him having to wait in the ship while they went to deliver the cargo. And Drax was starting on what would be that day's dinner, balancing massive pieces of steaks to add all sorts of spices.

Hours later, Peter was pushing his food around on the plate without any real appetite.

Was the fact that Saal hadn't shown himself for that long a good or a bad sign? Not even the smell of food had lured the Denarian out this time. Surely that couldn't be a good thing?

"Stop worrying," Rocket suddenly muttered, hunched over his own plate.

Blinking himself out of his thoughts, Peter straightened slightly. "What?"

"Either the guy decides to get his head out of his ass or not. You worrying ain't gonna influence that at all."

Peter was about to object, defend Saal, but Drax nodded.  
"The little one is right." The fighter ignored Rocket's offended outcry. "It was the risk you took upon deciding to bring the lawman onboard."

Peter started to push his food around again, knowing he couldn't make them understand how it felt waiting to see if you'd ruined everything. If the contempt was still in those dark eyes...

More time passed and just as Peter was about to buckle under the pressure and go check that Saal hadn't stolen his mask and jumped into space, he heard footsteps and straightened abruptly.  
Drax and Rocket also glanced up from what they were doing, just in time to see Saal appearing in the doorway.

Peter noted that he was looking tired. The anger was gone, replaced with an odd resignation.

Stopping just inside the door, Saal cleared his throat and failed at a smile. "Everyone here?"

Rocket leaned slightly towards the cockpit and yelled as loud as he could. "Gamora! Get your ass in here!"

Saal flinched at the volume, but gave a polite nod of gratitude as the raccoon made a 'happy?' face at him.

Seconds later, Gamora appeared, staring warily into the room but relaxed once she realized no one was dying at the moment.

It was just that Denarian Saal had finally decided on a couple of things...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His words faded out and there was a short silence before Saal could hear someone getting up and walking towards him, making him tense up and half waiting for an attack, verbally or physically.
> 
> When nothing happened, Saal had to lift his gaze and found Peter Quill standing in front of him.
> 
> The Terran was searching his eyes for something and the Denarian had to struggle to keep from turning away. That look was just too intense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late update! Bad timing, I know, but life decided to intervene. However, should be back on track now!

Gathering his courage, Saal forced himself to straighten his shoulders and face the Guardians.

"What you all did... Back there on Ariel..." He felt his determination falter and plowed on before he could chicken out. "As a lawman, I can't condone it. The law is the law and we cannot decide to only follow the laws we like. The people must be able to trust an officer to be honest, even if it sometimes means we have to do unsavory things for the greater good. We don't get to question why, but simply obey our orders."

He saw Rocket roll his eyes and the disappointment in Gamora's face.

"However," Saal continued, shifting his gaze to stare at the floor to be able to go on, "speaking for the man behind the uniform, I admire what you did back there. Breaking that law, risking your own lives, you did more good in one mission than many in the Nova Corps does during an entire career. Any free man should be proud to be a part of that."

His words faded out and there was a short silence before Saal could hear someone getting up and walking towards him, making him tense up and half waiting for an attack, verbally or physically.

When nothing happened, Saal had to lift his gaze and found Peter Quill standing in front of him.

The Terran was searching his eyes for something and the Denarian had to struggle to keep from turning away. That look was just too intense. 

"Peter, I..." Saal didn't know what he'd been hoping to hear. As much as he wanted to say what they'd done was a good thing, he still had a responsibility to the law he had sworn to uphold. 

The government of Ariel was a perfect example of how some could abuse the law, but it was an exception, not a rule. Laws were made to protect people and without them there would be chaos.  
He'd seen what chaos could do to the innocent population from years spent at war.

Yet, neither could Saal deny what they'd done would save innocent lives. How could that be a bad thing, even in the eyes of the law? 

"Are you going to snap my arm off?" Peter asked in a numb voice.

"Snap your...?" Saal started, utterly confused. "Why would I..." 

His words faded out once more as Peter slowly reached out and touched his shoulder, almost as if to test his reaction. For a moment Saal was completely baffled as to why Peter would think he'd hurt him, but then he realized that he would have happily broken his arm that very morning if he'd done the mistake of touching him.

When the soldier made no move to turn violent, Peter's hand moved up to carefully curl behind Saal's neck and gently urged him closer.

Saal hesitated for a moment, but all the confusing thoughts inside his head made him want the comfort so he caved in.

Taking a step forward, Saal closed his eyes as Peter wrapped his arms around him in an almost fierce hug.  
He slowly snuck his own arms around the Terran, knowing they were on display for everyone on the ship to see and not giving a damn.

Peter exhaled softly, sounding relieved, and hid his face to Saal's scarred neck.

Despite all the turmoil he'd been through that day, Saal found that holding Peter close still felt painfully right. Whatever happened between them, he suspected it always would feel right.

He faintly noted Gamora leaving the room, heading back into the cockpit, and the others returning to whatever they had been doing before he'd entered the room.

Finally Peter turned to rest his head on Saal's shoulder, stubbornly refusing to let go, but his voice was horribly vulnerable when he spoke. "Are we good...?"

"We're good," Saal replied quietly. 

A few seconds later, Peter released him abruptly and walked over to the counter. "You hungry?"

"Not really," was the honest reply. Saal felt more tired than anything else. Close to exhausted. His heart and his mind had been screaming at each other for hours and he just couldn't get them to agree.

"Then we train!" Drax stated. 

Peter snorted surprised and sent him a confused look. "Now?"

"Yes," the big man decided, sending Saal a firm stare. "Now."

-

Saal watched as Drax left the room and shifted his weight uneasily. "I do believe that man is planning to break at least a couple of bones in my body."

Poor Peter looked even more confused. "What-No-what?!"

Considering his options, Saal sighed and headed towards the cargo room. 

Maybe getting his arse handed to him might ease the guilt he was feeling? Which was yet another irrational conclusion, really, as he had every reason to think badly of a bunch of criminals doing criminal things and involving him in their criminal affairs! So why did he feel guilty? Maybe because they had treated him like one of their own (which his old self would have considered an insult and not a compliment) and he'd turned on them at the first opportunity?

Denarian Saal had a valid reason and explanation for his every reaction that morning, but he still felt... ashamed. A crime that seemed right? How was such a thing even possible...

"Whoa-whoa! Wait!" Peter ran after him and grabbed a hold of Saal's arm to stop him. "Where are you going?"

"Training," Saal answered with a weary shrug.

"Dude," Peter sent him a wide-eyed look. "If Drax is in a mood, I'm telling you; don't go there, okay?"

"I appreciate the concern, Peter," Saal gently removed his hand to free himself. "But I can handle it."

He could tell the Terran wanted to object vehemently to that statement so Saal merely stalked off before he could start talking again.

Drax was waiting for him in the cargo room and by the look on his face, Saal knew he had been right when thinking this wasn't going to be a harmless training session. 

Peter entered the room too, finding his way over to his usual crate, while the Denarian got ready for Drax to unleash his anger.

Blocking the first punches, Saal could feel the echoes of the impacts shuddering up his arm and suddenly knew the other man had just been using a fraction of his strength during their previous session.  
Drax was moving faster as well, making Saal struggle to keep up.

In the end, the big guy's fist found its target and the dark haired man was sent stumbling to maintain his balance while bleeding from a split lip.

"Hey!" Peter called out, jumping down from the crate and took a step forward to intervene.

Holding out his palm to signal for the Terran to stop, Saal spit out a mouthful of blood before straightening and getting back into a fighting stance.

Drax smirked.

It could hardly be called training anymore. There was real power behind the punches now and Saal was pushing himself hard to keep up with the other man. How could someone that big be that fast?

As it turned out, Drax was still faster than Denarian Saal.

The second the man's hand clamped down around Saal's right wrist, the soldier knew he was in trouble.

A twist on the arm had Saal going down on one knee with a pained grunt, but then Drax stepped around him and held it out behind Saal's own back. Holding his arm pulled out straight backwards, Drax then placed pressure just below the elbow to keep him down on his knee, making it clear Saal would break his own ulna if he tried to struggle against the grip.

"Goddamit, Drax!" Peter called out, stepping towards them again.

"No!" Saal yelled, staring at the floor and noted how a couple of blood drops fell from his split lip. "Back off, Quill!"

Peter hesitated, clearly confused and worried, but he didn't advance further.

Moments passed as Drax held him locked down and an absent part of Saal's mind marveled at how skillfully the man kept the exact pressure needed to keep him in agony without fracturing his arm.

It took a little while for him to understand what Drax was trying to achieve with this, but eventually Saal realized that the man was waiting for him to unleash his own powers.  
That morning, preventing him from punching Peter, Drax must have felt the Nova Force in Saal.

When Peter Quill had dragged the Denarian onboard, the Guardians probably considered him a pampered pet for their captain to play with. During their sparring session, Drax may have upgraded him to a puppy with sharp teeth. However, that morning, the man must have realized that Peter had actually dragged a full grown Direwolf into their homes.

If Saal tapped into his powers, there was not a single person onboard the ship that would be able to stop him.

-

Peter clenched his hands into tight fists, aching to intervene.

What the hell was going on?

Saal was still down on one knee, arm wrung back and held in a pressure lock threatening to break it at any moment, but he was merely staring at the ground and choking down pained sounds.

Drax was frowning by now, then added just the teeniest bit of pressure and the Denarian couldn't hold back an anguished scream, semi-muffled behind clenched teeth.

But he still wouldn't fight back!

"Drax!" Peter yelled, getting increasingly angry. "Enough!"

Drax glanced over at him before gazing down at Saal again, obviously noting how the soldier was simply focusing on breathing through the pain rather than fighting back. Suddenly he released his arm and tugged Saal up on his feet again.

The two stared at each other, Drax with his hands on Saal's shoulders and Saal clutching his upper right arm which was probably throbbing with pain.  
Whatever had caused Drax' odd behavior, it was obviously resolved as he suddenly grinned and shook the Denarian lightly before stomping off.

Flinching as Drax passed him, nervous he'd try that shit on him as well, Peter finally dared to trot over to the dark haired soldier remaining behind.  
"Seriously, what. The. Hell?" Peter demanded, reaching out to take a hold of Saal's chin so he could estimate how bad the cut on his lip was.

Still clutching his arm, Saal sighed. "Don't worry about it. I deserved that."

Huffing with frustration, Peter released his chin and absently scanned his form as if to check for other injuries. (He was pretty certain a couple of the punches Drax had landed would have fractured ribs on anybody else...) "I'm obviously gonna have to have a talk to Nova Prime about how she raises you boys. What kind of messed up logic is that? Deserved it? You're not making any sense!"

Saal was about to answer, but was distracted by something behind Peter and Starlord turned to see Gamora standing in the hallway. 

Great. Now what? She was going to go mental too? Was it something in the air? Had they all caught something on Ariel and Peter was the only one immune because he was so awesome?  
"I swear," Peter mumbled to Saal, "if you two start fighting as well, I'm getting the hose and hosing you down."

Saal absently petted Peter's shoulder as he stepped pass him and moved to face the assassin.

"I voted to leave you on Ariel," Gamora stated in a neutral voice. "But Drax vetoed it. You see, I like you, Saal. I don't want to follow up on my promise, ok?"

Yep, they had all definitely gone mental, Peter decided.

"If you wanted me dead, I would be," Saal calmly reasoned. "I doubt I would even see it coming. So why am I still here on this ship?"

"Because Drax pointed out that everyone here has made mistakes," Gamora gave a little shudder at the memories of her old life. "I know I have." She focused on Saal again. "We have all gotten a second chance. Don't waste yours."

After that, frankly cryptic, message, Gamora stalked off and Peter dared to approach Saal again. "Dude... What is going on? Why is everyone acting batshit crazy all of a sudden?"

Saal gave him a faint smile. "They're just protecting you." He could understand that notion all too well. "And making sure I don't cause everyone to end up in jail."

"Protecting me?" Saal's explanation made even less sense to Peter. "From what? This is crazy!" He took a hold of the soldier's upper left arm and tugged him along. "You're not making sense. Shut up. Let's get you cleaned up."

For some odd reason, Peter couldn't stand the fact that Saal was bleeding...

Saal allowed him to drag him along while still clutching his right arm. "I'm okay, Peter. If he wanted to really hurt me, he would have."

"If he had, he would have regretted it bitterly," Peter growled, not sure why the mere thought made his temper flare up. "But I'm not having you bleeding all over my ship."

-

After making sure Saal wouldn't bleed to death from the cut lip, Peter turned more than a little paranoid and protective of the Denarian.

It was slightly amusing, Saal thought, as he was the one who didn't run around risking his life on a daily business as a space pirate.

The Terran even asked three times if it was okay for him to leave as he had to check up on some things and Saal was dangerously close to physically throwing him out of the room in the end.  
He waited a little while, to make sure Peter wasn't lurking just outside the door, then left the sleeping quarters and headed for the common room.

There wasn't a soul in sight and he had a good fifteen minutes to find himself a hot drink and settle with it by the table before there was the sound of footsteps.

Rocket, balancing the pot with mini-Groot in his arms, made his way inside and placed the pot on the table. "Hey, man."

"Hey," Saal answered, watching as the raccoon ducked behind the counter to rummage around there. "What are you doing?"

"Going to put him in a bigger pot, maybe that'll make him grow faster." Rocket went back to drag out a bag of soil. "I read that plants grow bigger the more room they got."

"Groot!" The humanoid plant stated cheerfully.

Saal sent the creature an uneasy stare, never quite been able to wrap his head around a talking tree, and was happy to lend a hand when Rocket asked if he could get the bigger pot from the hallway.  
Placing the pot next to the other one, Saal waited until Rocket had climbed up on a chair with his bag of soil before speaking. "So what did you vote? Leaving me on Ariel?"

Rocket shook his head with a faint laugh while pouring soil into the pot. "Saal, as far as cops go, you're pretty ok. Every bit as stuck up as the rest of your kind, but you do seem a bit smarter. Peter thought that if you saw we weren't like the Kree, you might see him as a decent guy, not just a thief."

Saal swallowed hard. "And what do you think?"

"I think that if you insist on keeping one foot in each camp, you're never gonna have a home here with us," Rocket stated, straightening the bag of soil and pushing it away so he could dig a hole for Groot's roots. "Never mind the fact that being a lawman pretty much guarantees you a life without an ounce of fun in it, what do you owe those people?"

Saal felt a ball of unease form in his stomach. "I promised to protect them..."

"Yeah, and you did," Rocket stated, his tiny paws patting at the soil. "You put yourself between them and Ronan. You didn't hesitate to die for them. How grateful are they now?" He turned his focus on Saal, straightening to really hammer home his point. "Are they calling you a hero or are they too busy staring at the scars?"

Saal could actually feel himself turning pale and he drew a shivering breath. 

"You don't owe those shallow bastards nothing, Saal." Rocket sighed and shook his head. "I know what it's like to be stared at. What it's like to be the freak..."

Feeling both nauseous and strangely numb, Saal struggled to remember how to breathe.

Rocket reached out and gently removed the soil around the strangely quiet Groot. "I've seen you with Peter. The guy even makes you smile. I thought they surgically removed that during lawman-school." He moved his friend carefully over to the new pot. "Shouldn't be that tough of a choice, Saal. But you're going to make it into one, aren't you?"

Saal failed to find his voice. He merely swallowed hard again and stood frozen while Rocket climbed down to get some water for the strange plant. The soldier absently noticed Groot bending down and trying to pat the soil tighter around his roots with some difficulty.

He wasn't sure why, but Saal found himself reaching out and gently aid the creature in its task, maybe it was just something to do rather than mull over the painful truth the raccoon had just served him, but as he patted the soil Saal could feel the Nova Force suddenly tingling at the tip of his fingers.

Frowning confused, Saal glanced at Groot, who had straightened up and was looking at him with something he could have sworn was a smile. What was going on?

He hesitated for a few seconds, then channeled a fraction of the Nova Force into his hands and Saal's eyes widened as he felt the energy being drained while the plant grew several inches in front of him.  
The Denarian was still staring when Rocket climbed back up on his chair with the water he'd brought, and the raccoon started violently at the sight that met him. 

"Groot! You've grown!" Rocket breathed a relieved laugh. "You've actually grown!"

"I Groot!" The plant declared, pointing a small branch towards Saal, who quickly withdrew his hands from the soil as if had turned boiling hot.

"You?" Rocket asked perplexed. "You made him grow?"

Saal held up a defensive hand. "No, I just... I think, maybe, based on what just happened, I think it, he, might be using energy to boost its, his, growth. I gave him a little of the Nova Force..."

Rocket waved his arms, grinning from ear to ear. "Do it again, man!"

Saal gestured to Groot, who was yawning and stretching. "It's, he's, exhausted. Probably not smart to over-do it. Also, I'm on a pretty limited supply here. Didn't think to stock up on the Nova Force in case I ever got kidnapped..."

He half expected Rocket to get angry, demanding he'd at least use whatever Nova Force he had at his disposal, but instead the raccoon hiccupped an emotional laugh and petted Groot ever so carefully and Saal realized that he was, for the very first time, seeing Rocket happy.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey," Peter wandered over and took a light hold of Saal's t-shirt. "Need some help with this?"  
> The Denarian sent him a dry look over his shoulder and Peter let out an embarrassed laugh. "That wasn't exactly what I was thinking about, dude."  
> But now that he hinted at it... Saal 'was' warm, gorgeous and within reach.
> 
> Peter could feel a grin appearing on his face. "But if you're offering..."

Returning to the sleeping quarters, Peter had a moment of panic as he found it empty. Trotting towards the common room, he heard the Denarian's deep voice before arriving, but to his concern, he could also hear at least Drax and Rocket as well.

Halting in the doorway, Starlord stared nervously at the three gathered around the table and found them studying Groot.

Was it his imagination or had the guy grown overnight and gotten himself a new, bigger pot?

"What's going on?" Peter asked, too casually.

Rocket waved him over. "Check it out! Saal here made Groot grow!"

"What?" Peter glanced from one to the other, trying to see if they were trying to pull a bad joke.

Saal gave a smile with a flicker of pride in it. "It, he, feeds off energy. Gave it, him, a shot of the Nova Force and it, he, started getting bigger in front of my eyes!"

"Huh," Peter mumbled, leaning forward to study Groot too. "That's pretty cool."

Eventually Gamora joined them as well and they all ended up eating and talking around the table, as if the horrible morning had never happened.

During the meal, they decided to drop the nightshifts, without any cargo to protect they were happy to let the proximity alert guard them, and Peter was almost giddy with relief as he was trailing after Saal towards their room.  
Everything seemed to have worked itself out! Whatever insanity had struck them all earlier must have vanished and he could finally relax again!

There was only a jab of concern once they had entered the room and Saal gave a little sound of pain as he wrung off his jacket. His arm was obviously still hurting.

"Hey," Peter wandered over and took a light hold of Saal's t-shirt. "Need some help with this?"  
The Denarian sent him a dry look over his shoulder and Peter let out an embarrassed laugh. "That wasn't exactly what I was thinking about, dude." 

But now that he hinted at it... Saal 'was' warm, gorgeous and within reach.

Peter could feel a grin appearing on his face. "But if you're offering..."

Saal rolled his eyes and managed, with little elegance, to pull off his own t-shirt by using only his left hand. 

Pouting, Peter sank down to sit on the bed. "Killjoy..."

"I can undress myself, thank you very much," Saal stated, sounding every bit the proper and prim Xandarian officer he was.

Wow, those guys must lead boring lives, Starlord mused while falling backwards to lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling, trying very hard to ignore the sounds of the other man getting undressed.

"I could, however," Saal's voice said as the man stepped further away from him and the bed, "appreciate a helping hand to scrub my back in the shower though."

It took a second for the words to make sense inside Peter's head and by the time he sat up abruptly, the dark haired man had already vanished into the bathroom.

Probably setting a galaxy record in fastest undressing ever, Peter stumbled into the room and approached the shower cautiously, but Saal merely smiled at the sight of him and moved over to make room.  
Peter stepped in under the hot water, noting the sadist preferred it a lot warmer than him, but it really didn't matter all that much as there were far more important things to focus on.

Like Garthan Saal, dripping wet and naked.

Unfortunately the man insisted on doing the entire shower ritual of soaping up and getting clean instead of other lewd things, efficiently relocating wandering hands from his person and letting his own run over Starlord's skin in gentle but non-lingering moves.  
Giving up, Peter was actually starting to worry that Saal was having a bad influence on him as he suddenly found himself closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of Saal's fingers massaging shampoo into his hair. It was almost peaceful...

Returning the favor made all the lewdness return to him though. 

It was just too tempting as he drew his hands over the wet skin, noting how the other man only tensed a little bit when he touched the scars instead of being on the verge of freaking out like in the past. 

Trailing the lovely muscles he could feel under his palms, Peter made extra sure that every inch of Saal's chest and back were squeaky clean, but the second his hands aimed to go below waist-level, his wrists were caught in a firm grip and Starlord whined.

Ignoring him, the Denarian merely turned him around and pulled him back to lean against his chest. 

Peter was about to start complaining, but then long, nimble fingers curled around his dick and his brain was abruptly depleted of blood.

-  
Saal noticed with satisfaction that the moment he took him in his hand, Peter did lean back against him while his hips twitched eagerly to his grip.  
Smiling as a couple of light, caressing strokes made the Terran close his eyes and grow even harder in his hand, Saal turned his head to whisper in his ear. "Show me what you like."

Peter was clearly struggling to speak, absently grasping a tight hold on Saal's wrist without doing anything to guide the movement. "Just... this. You. Whatever you want, big boy."

Saal made a disapproving sound against Peter's neck, not sure whether it was the Terran or the increasingly steam-filled room which was making him slightly dizzy. "What I want... is for you to teach me how to touch you."  
After what had happened earlier that day, Saal just wanted to make it up to Peter. He wanted to do this just right. Just how Peter preferred it.

Frowning with concentration, Peter let his hand slide up to cover Saal's and made him tighten his grip every so lightly before urging him to start moving.

Saal memorized every move, every single detail, once again demonstrating that he was an excellent student, and felt almost guilty that he was enjoying this far more than he probably should.  
It was supposed to be about Peter, but the man could not help the ever increasing arousal at the sounds emerging from the Terran's throat or how he was squirming against him.

Peter's hand slowly went from guiding Saal's movements to merely resting on top of it, while he reached back with his other arm and placed it behind Saal's neck, tugging him slightly forward so he could turn his head and steal an almost desperate kiss.

More kisses followed, only interrupted by gasps for air and the occasional needy sound escaping from Peter's lips, and Saal almost didn't hear the words once they were spoken.

"Y-your... the thing that... you did... Last time. With your, fu... your thumb."

Moving his hand up to slide his thumb over the tip of Peter's cock, noting how it made the man's hips twitch hard, it was almost torture to Saal's own need.

Being that close to Peter, all wet and constantly rubbing against him, and not take advantage of it, Saal had to use every bit of his willpower to stay focused on his task.  
Yet, the Denarian would be lying if he said he didn't feel a flicker of relief when the Terran shuddered hard and found his release.

Caressing and easing him through it, even savoring how the man's fingers dug into his neck, Saal eventually let Peter simply rest against him while the hot water poured down over them both.

He even managed a faint smile when the Ravager turned his head to murmur half-panted words against his neck. "You know what I want now?"

Saal shivered, despite the warm water, not sure if he could stand much more selflessness that day. "What...?"

Peter breathed a soft laugh, speaking in a devious and silky voice dangerously close to his ear. "Now I wanna ride your dick for the next two hours."

The man was obviously trying to kill him. Saal licked his lips absently. "Peter, you don't have to..."

"Now, now," the Terran chided with a teasing grin, patting the other side of Saal's neck. "You're not denying me what I want, big boy?"

As if he ever could, Saal thought before allowing himself to be pulled out of the shower.

-  
Grabbing a hold of a towel, Peter used it as a flimsy excuse to go over Saal's gloriously tense body.

He wouldn't mind groping and mapping out every bit of him, but the Denarian ended up tugging him close after a few minutes.

"If you don't stop now," Saal growled against Peter's neck, "I won't last two flipping minutes. That what you want?"

Laughing triumphantly, Peter let the towel drop to the floor and wrapped his arms around him. "Not this time." He stole a few kisses from the tense lips before dragging him into the bedroom and shoving him down on the bed.

It didn't make any sense, Starlord mused, why he was feeling so greedy as he'd just had one frigging awesome orgasm, but for whatever reason, he craved the feeling like a starving man at a banquet.

Peter grabbed the lube and made a quick, messy preparation before straddling Saal and holding his cock steady with a firm grip to sink down on it with a happy groan.

Maybe, he wondered distantly, it was how it made Saal arch into the bed with his fingers digging into the sheets with enough force which would have left Peter once again with bruises? 

Maybe it was the sight of how Saal had to close his eyes for one pleasure-overloaded second and the sound of a shivering sigh escaping from his parted lips?

Or maybe it was that these precious moments would linger in Peter's memory and if everything went to hell, he'd know that for a little while; Garthan Saal was his. 

Unconditionally and truly his. Even if just for a few moments. His.  
At least he would have that.

Rolling his hips, he made the man automatically reach up to place his hands on his skin, long fingers searching for a hold before anchoring their grip on said hips, but Peter waited for Saal to open his eyes again before letting him set the pace.

He needed to watch the dark eyes. While they were hazed with desire, Peter noted to his endless relief there was no trace of the contempt he'd seen there earlier.

Running his hands over the lovely chest rising and falling rapidly under Saal's strained breathing, Starlord couldn't help a faint and wicked smile.

The man looked absolutely gorgeous like this, a picture of both strength and vulnerability mixed up in one delicious body.

Rolling his hips, caressing the damp skin and occasionally shuddering as a sliver of lust vibrated through his spent body when Saal would brush by that spot inside him, Peter lost track of time.  
It all became a glorious mess of sensations. 

He continued to move, following the instructions given by the hands on his hips, only giving a faint startled yelp when Saal suddenly, without warning, flipped them over.

There was now an urgency to the snap in the dark haired man's hips and Peter breathlessly encouraged him to chase after his release.

While Peter already had his climax, there was no denying how good, how right it felt. He would never get enough of the feeling. How Saal felt, above, inside and around him. His sweat slick skin sliding against his. The wiry muscles under Peter's greedy touch. The surprising rhythm and flexibility to a body kept under strict military regime for most of its life.

It made him cling even tighter, one arm around Saal's waist, his other hand behind his neck, holding him close as he felt the Denarian tense up and shudder hard in an almost pained bliss.

For a while, Saal merely fought to regain his breath and his senses and Peter happily hoarded the moments of clinging to the man as he collapsed completely into his arms.

Yes, for a few precious moments, Garthan Saal was indeed his.

-

Peter whined his complaints when Saal insisted they'd get cleaned up.  
"But we just showered!" The Terran griped as he was dragged out of bed.

"Yes, and the, ah, physical exercise afterwards kind of nullified that," Saal stated, guiding him back into the shower and slapped his hands away as Peter turned to face him with a naughty grin and teasing fingers.

"Physical exercise? That's what you wanna call it?" The Terran used the opportunity when Saal was distracted by lathering up his hands to nip at the soldier's neck. "Are all you Xandarian's prudes when it comes to hot, messy sex? Sweaty, deliciously..."

Saal sent him a narrow-eyed look. "Peter Quill. I 'will' use this soap to wash your mouth if you keep going down that road. Understood?" 

After that threat, the man actually behaved, probably too tired by now to be his usual self, and Saal was allowed to get them both cleaned up without more interference.

He was even allowed to towel Peter dry without lewd comments and as a reward, Saal pretended not to see the almost childlike look of contentment on his face.  
Something told Saal that Peter wasn't used to anyone taking care of him without wanting something in return...

Moments later, Saal had just pulled on a boxer and was reaching for the grey t-shirt he'd gotten used to spending the nights in when Peter suddenly grabbed his wrist.

"Garthan. No," the Terran stated.

Blinking confused, Saal shook his head quizzically. "What...?"

This time it was Peter who dragged him along, back to the bed. "You always cover up."

Saal wanted to object, even as he was manipulated into the bed and arranged so Peter could curl up to his side, rubbing his face to the bare skin with a smug sound, but he knew it would be in vain. 

Also, Peter was right. Why cover up the scars when he'd already seen them and proven time and again they didn't bother him?

In the end, he simply wrapped an arm around the annoying thief's shoulders and absently carded his hand through Peter's damp curls while letting his own mind wander for a while.  
Suddenly a thought struck him and Saal glanced down at the man drowsing on his chest. "Hey, you're from Terra, yes?" There was an affirming grunt. "How did you end up with the Ravagers?"

A few seconds passed, then Peter drew a quick breath and got even more comfortable, sliding an arm over Saal's stomach. "They stole me."

"They what?"

"The night my mum died at the hospital, they stole me," Peter said, as if he was reporting the weather.

"They stole a child? On the night of your mother's death?" Saal almost refused to believe there were creatures who would stoop that low, tensing with growing and pointless fury. "Why?"

Peter shrugged. "Curious, I guess. Yondu said they'd never had a Terran onboard before." He finally lifted himself to glance up at Saal and smiled a little at the rage he found there. "Relax, it could have been worse."

"Oh, really?" Saal spat, unable to understand why Peter would even try to defend the cretins who had stolen him from his home and unknowingly hugged him tighter.

"Yeah, really," Peter stated. "They kept me. Didn't slit my throat or, worse, sell me to a slaver. Okay they weren't exactly a band of merry men, but they kept me. Taught me to survive."

Unable to see how that would redeem them of deserving a life sentence in the darkest prison known to him, Saal still forced himself calm. "And you never went home?"

Peter laid his head back down on his chest. "Nah. Nothing for me there anymore. Mum was gone. Dad left long time ago. Me and my grand-dad... didn't get along too well. Also, people on Terra don't even know what is out here. How could I go back to living like that?"

Saal didn't quite know how to answer that, still shocked by what he'd just learned. How could anyone who had gone through that kind of trauma and been raised by a band of cut-throats, still be so... normal? Despite everything he'd been through, Peter still laughed, loved and did good deeds. How?

"What about you?" Peter suddenly asked. "How did you end up in the army?"

"Me?" Saal was a little surprised at the question, being used to everyone knowing about his family history. "My parents were in the army. My father's father and both my mother's parents too. And their parents and so on. It's a family thing."

"So you never wanted to be something else?"

"No, I..." Saal was somewhat stumped. He'd never considered it, had he? "Our family, we... I just..."

"So neither of us was given much of a choice," Peter concluded quietly. "We do have something in common, after all."

-


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning they were abruptly woken up as an alarm started blaring.  
> Both men jumped out of bed and started getting dressed while heading for the door.
> 
> "What's happening?" Saal shouted through the loud sound.
> 
> "No idea!" Peter answered honestly, having pulled on a t-shirt and jeans and was jumping on one foot to get a boot on. "I suggest we find out."

The next morning they were abruptly woken up as an alarm started blaring.  
Both men jumped out of bed and started getting dressed while heading for the door.

"What's happening?" Saal shouted through the loud sound.

"No idea!" Peter answered honestly, having pulled on a t-shirt and jeans and was jumping on one foot to get a boot on. "I suggest we find out."

They were soon running towards the cockpit, joined by Gamora on the way, and arrived to find Rocket and Drax already there.

The raccoon pushed some buttons on the control panel and finally the alarm went quiet, but they were all too busy staring out the front window to notice.

In front of them, an unfamiliar ship was slowly moving towards them.

"What is that?" Saal asked, leaning forward in an effort to get a better look at it.

"Appears to be a cargo ship," Rocket replied, pulling up schematics on a computer screen. 

"Looks like she's taken quite a beating too," Gamora added, crossing her arms and frowning. "Seems like she's drifting."

Focusing hard, Peter could make out the badly charred hull on the grey ship and even some holes where shots had torn through the metal body. "Any survivors?"

Drax shrugged, pushing a button on the panel closest to him. "There is a distress beacon, but no message."

"Probably hit by mercs," Rocket reasoned, leaning back to stare at the drifting ship. "That's what you get for not having proper scanners, guys!"

Drax got up while both Peter and Gamora turned to leave when Saal realized what was happening.

"Wait!" The Denarian exclaimed. "Aren't you going to do something?"

Gamora sent him a sympathetic look. "If they were hit by mercs, there's most likely no one left alive on that ship."

"Or it's a trap," Rocket added. "Some of the nastier pirates around here leave traps like this. A ship seemingly in trouble, waiting for a crew of naive idiots to pass by and when they stop to help... Surprise! Say hello to a gang of highly armed mercs!"

Exhaling his frustration, Saal shook his head. "You can't know that this is the case here." He turned to the one person he hoped he could convince. "Peter, you can't mean to leave without checking it out, at least?"

Hesitating, torn between his natural urge to help and the knowledge that it included some serious risk to both himself and his crew, not to mention Saal, Peter placed his hands on his hips and drew a slow breath to buy himself time to think.

"Oh, come on!" Rocket yelled, standing up in his seat and turning to point an accusing claw at Starlord. "Don't you be risking our asses just because you wanna impress your boyfriend!"

"This isn't about him impressing me!" Saal objected vehemently. "It's about doing the right thing!"

Peter glanced over at the Denarian, fighting back a smile as he noted that Saal didn't react or object to his new title, strangely amused at that detail, before raising a hand in a sign for silence.  
"Okay," Starlord began, "here's what we'll do." He cleared his throat. "We'll take a quick peek." 

Rocket threw both paws up in the air. "Seriously?!"

Peter shrugged. "Either there are someone over there who might need help, someone who might be grateful enough to make it worth our while."

"Or it's a trap," Rocket yelled.

"Or it's a trap," Peter admitted. "Which means you get to test out that new device of yours, Rocket."

The raccoon fell quiet for a moment, his left ear twitching, then a grin which could be described as nothing less than frightening came over his face. "Oooooh yeaaaah..."

Saal suddenly didn't seem utterly convinced it was a good thing he'd gotten his way after all. "What... device?"

Peter grinned widely and winked. "Don't worry about it."

Which, of course, made the man look even more worried.

-

Half expecting both Gamora and Drax to be angry with him for insisting they had to investigate the damaged ship, Saal was a little surprised to find them both acting with a faint resignation, as if they were long ago used to their captain's odd behavior.

Standing by the airlock, the three were waiting for Peter to join them while Rocket lined their ship up next to their target.

Saal hadn't expected to be handed a gun, but Gamora declared he'd better have something to defend himself with if it indeed turned out to be a trap.  
Truth be told, the Denarian felt a little better going into unknown territory knowing he could protect himself and not having to rely on the others or his dwindling supply of Nova Force.

As the ship shook, aligning itself with the drifting hull, Peter came walking down the hall while carrying two pretty big guns. "Ready?"

Gamora and Drax nodded, but Saal merely sent him a dry look. "Are those really necessary?"

The Terran sent him a quick grin. "You're on my turf now, kid. Trust me."

Saal raised his eyebrows. Fair enough, the Denarian was still considered young in Xandarian culture, but Peter was even younger and considering the short life-span of Terrans... "I am not a child, Peter Quill."

Drax leaned closer. "It is what they call a metaphor. Terrans tend to call everyone children when trying to appear old and wise."

"Oh," Saal mumbled, ignoring Peter's objection. "Thanks."

Drax nodded magnanimously. "You are welcome, Denarian Saal."

Rolling his eyes, Peter lifted his hand to his ear to press his communication device online. "Okay, Rocket. We're ready. How are we looking?" He listened for a few seconds, then signaled them to get ready.

Gamora glanced over at Saal with a faint smirk. "What if the crew we're about to rescue are smugglers like us, Denarian? Criminals?"

Clenching his jaw, Saal took up his position next to the airlock. "Then maybe they still don't deserve to suffocate if they run out of air or get killed by the next gang of pirates passing them by."

Gamora raised her eyebrows with an amused chuckle. "Denarian Saal. There is hope for you yet."

"Shut up," Peter mumbled, watching intently as the air pressure stabilized in the extendable hallway between the two ships. "Here we go."

The doors on both ships opened at the same time, revealing armed crews on each side.

On the opposite side there was a brown haired man with a tanned complexion, a pink skinned woman with long red hair and two very pale women with long black hair (who appeared similar enough to be twins). All were armed to the teeth.

"Whoa, hold up," Peter called out, keeping his guns aimed at the man in the middle. "Are you guys looking for a gun fight or looking some help?"

"I don't know," the man replied, keeping his own gun firmly locked on Peter. "Depends. Are you offering help to fix our ship or help in unloading us of our cargo?"

Saal let his gaze move from one to the other of the unfamiliar crew and knew it was only the man and the pink skinned woman who were the killers among them. The pale twins were nervous, ready to fight, but would prefer to avoid it. A dark figure lurking behind them was trying to stay hidden, but something told Saal it was more out of fear than bad intent.

Peter slowly lowered his guns. "We got no interest in your cargo." He stuck his chin out. "My name is Starlord. You may have heard of me." When he got no other reaction than blank stares, Peter sighed resigned. "One day..."

"Drop the weapons," Gamora ordered and the tension snapped back into the air.

Peter gave a tight smile to the other crew. "Yeah, gonna have to ask you to stop pointing those at us. If you want some help fixing that ship of yours, that is."

"How do we know we can trust you?" One of the twins asked.

Sending her his most charming look, Peter winked. "Would this face lie?"

-

Lowering his own gun, Saal stepped up next to Peter. "We are all going to have to show a little trust here." 

Saal was about to continue speaking when the man at the opposite side of the hallway shifted his focus 'and' his gun over to point at him. The view was then abruptly blocked when Peter quickly stepped in front of Saal while lifting his two guns again to aim back at the guy.

"Careful where you point that thing, buddy," the Terran stated, suddenly with a very dangerous and deadly edge to his voice.

It made everyone grab their guns a little tighter and Saal quickly placed a calming hand on the Ravager's shoulder.  
"Easy," he soothed in a soft voice, feeling the muscles tensed up like iron underneath his palm. 

Peter's eyes were razor sharp and set on his prey, but at least he didn't start shooting.

"Listen," Saal called out, remaining where he was as he did not want to provoke Peter into doing something stupid if he tried to step in front of him, "you were the ones who sent out the distress call. Do you want our aid or not? We got other, more important things to do, than to stand around here and being threatened by you lot!"

There was a moment of hesitation, glances were exchanged between the other crew, and just as Saal was about to drag Peter away and leave them to their fate, the tanned guy slowly lowered his gun.

"Sorry," the man said with a faint smile. "Can't be too careful, you know?"

The rest of the crew lowered their weapons too, even if they didn't look too particularly happy about it.

Saal tapped Peter's shoulder and an agonizingly tense second passed before the Terran slowly lowered his guns as well.

"My name is Captain Nate Reyne." The tanned man declared, before gesturing to the pink skinned woman. "This here is my right hand, Tuley Ansem. The twins are Tara and Lea."

"And the one in the back?" Drax asked, stepping up next to Peter.

"Ah," Nate said, gesturing for the creature to step forward and a nervous, lanky humanoid creature appeared. Grey skin, black eyes and no hair. "This here is our mechanic. Rahn."

Peter pointed at each of his own crew in turn. "Drax. Gamora. Saal. And the one sitting in our cockpit, aching to place a newly invented imploding device on your ship is Rocket. I'll let him introduce you to Groot."

Now that the introductions were done and tempers were calmed, Saal released Peter's shoulder and stepped up next to his other side. "So, what happened?"

"Ravagers," Nate stated, with a meaningful look at Peter's clothes. "They hit us hard, but had to retreat without their prize as we managed to take out their life support system. Made them choose between our cargo and air."

Saal cleared his throat to move the attention away from Peter's connection to their attackers. "What's the damage to your ship?"

"Our propulsion systems are down," the gloomy creature called Rahn mumbled. "Stranded."

Peter reached up to activate his communication device. "Rocket, no need to go boom. Sorry." He snorted a laugh at whatever reply he got. "Yeah, I know. Hey, what do you know about propulsion systems?"

After that, things moved along nicely, if a little tense. Turned it out they were a (legal) crew shipping building materials between industrial worlds.  
The twins were delighted to meet Rocket, who made it painfully clear he would bite whomever tried to pet him, but Rocket and Rahn seemed to get along well enough. Rocket chattering away and the grey mechanic nodding from time to time as they headed for the engine room.

A little while later, hanging around in the other ship's common room, Saal was entertaining himself by watching Peter trying and failing miserably at flattering his way into Tuley's good graces when there was the sound of footsteps.  
Glancing over, he saw Captain Nate approaching him and gave a polite nod while scanning the stranger for any reaction to his scarred appearance.

"The, ah, furry fellah said he could get us from dead to limping," Nate drawled with a trying smile.

Saal nodded, puzzled that the man didn't seem to even notice the scars. "Rocket knows his way around machines and devices."

Nate pulled out a small, silver flask from his inner pocket. "I gotta say, though," he took a sip from the drinking flask before offering it to Saal, "I ain't ever met a talking plant before."

Laughing quietly, Saal accepted the flask and cautiously sniffed the contents before taking a sip as well. Smelled and tasted like very strong alcohol. "I felt the same way the first time."

-

Mid-laugh, after yet another colorful description of what Tuley suggested he could do to pass the time until they split ways, Peter froze at the sight that met him from the other side of the room.

Captain what's-his-name was leaning in close and Saal was clearly amused at whatever the man was saying.

Staring, he watched as Saal took a chug from a silver flask before handing it back to the shifty-looking guy. Peter found himself wondering when the two of them had become best friends and what the hell they were talking about that was that funny?

Tuley raised an elegant eyebrow as she noticed what he was looking at. "You know, we could actually use an extra hand on the ship..."

Peter sent her a venomous glare. "Yeah, well, too bad. He already has a job."

She sent him a dangerously sweet smile. "Nate has been known to... persuade people."

Clenching his jaw hard, Starlord forced a smile. "Saal has been known to be hard to persuade."

He strolled over to the other two men, carefully casual, and heard the sneaky guy rattling on about the moving cargo business.  
It was more than a little offensive that it took almost an entire minute before Saal noticed he'd joined them.

"Peter, what's wrong?" Saal straightened with a concerned look.

"Wrong?" Peter chirped. "Why do you think anything is wrong? Why, why would anything be wrong?"

Saal's look of concern turned into confusion. "Because you have that look on your face...?"

"Look?" Peter stared from Saal to that other guy and back to Saal again. "What look?"

"That look," Saal stated, raising a dark eyebrow.

The other guy had the nerve to laugh. A disgustingly nice laugh too. Figures. It matched his somewhat handsome face. "So 'Starlord' isn't your real name, hah?"

Saal cleared his throat with secondhand embarrassment. "No. Not it is not. His name is Peter Quill."

"It's my outlaw name!" Peter tried to sound haughty, but it really came more off as whiny. Determined to try to salvage some of his dignity, he straightened and stuck his chin out. "So when will you guys be on your way?"

"That, er, Rocket said he'd need at least five hours," the man answered.

"Nate here has kindly offered for us to dine with him and his crew while we wait," Saal added, sounding far too happy about that prospect for Peter's taste.

"Oh, really?" Starlord couldn't help the touch of vinegar to his voice. "Lucky us."

Saal sent him a glance, somewhere between annoyed and even more confused, but Peter merely met it with a stubborn look of his own.

The man, Nate, seemed to pick up on the tension and shifted uneasily. "Anyways, lucky for us you guys came this way. Where are y'all headed then?"

"Xandar," Saal replied, before Peter could tell Captain Nosy to mind his own business. "Peter is actually giving me a lift home."

"Xandar?" Nate gave an oh so friendly smile. "That's on our way. If you want, we could drop you off. Save, uh, Starlord here some fuel in return for helping us out?"

This time Peter was quicker to reply than Saal. "I think not, buddy. Thanks." He gave a razor sharp smile of his own. "But do feel free to start whipping up that food, yeah?"

Nate nodded, more than a little amused it seemed, and dropped his gaze to avoid the fierce stare. "Right. Yeah, I'll... get right on that."

As the man walked away, Saal took a step closer to Peter to speak in a low voice. "Seriously, what's wrong with you? You're acting... odd."

"No, I'm not!" Peter snapped tersely. "You wanted to go with them? That it?"

"What? Of course not!" Saal scoffed.

"Then what's the problem?" Peter didn't hang around to wait for an answer, merely stalked down to the engine room to hear if Rocket could speed up his repairs a little.

-  
  
Saal had been surprised when Nate didn't seem to react to his scars and his puzzlement didn't lessen when the twins approached him without a single glance towards his ruined skin.  
He was actually somewhat startled though when the lovely Tuley actually slithered up next to him and made no effort to hide her interest in him.

Both flattered and flustered, Saal tried to remember how he'd acted when it was a daily thing that someone would come on to him. It was hard to remember that he'd once met situations like this with suave indifference.

Where the burns had ruined not only his face, but his everyday life as well back home, it seemed like they didn't matter out here in the darkness of space. 

Where Xandar appreciated flawless beauty, the Galaxy hailed survivors. 

He was still mulling over this fact when Tuley took his hand and announced it was time to eat and ushered him along.

Everyone except Rocket, Groot and Rahn had gathered in what appeared to be a dining area. A long table stood in the middle of the room, covered with several pans and plates. And the smell was divine!

"Dig in," Captain Nate announced. "It ain't much, but we gotta repay you in some way!"

"This will suffice," Drax declared with glee, helping himself to unhealthy amounts of whatever was in one of the pans. "This will suffice nicely!"

Saal was a little resigned to see Peter still acting surly and odd, hovering in the back and whispering things to a stone-faced Gamora.

He waited until Peter skulked off then approached Gamora while balancing a plate he had probably over-filled in his greed. "Hey."

She nodded a greeting.

"Not eating?" Saal studied a small fruit on his plate before tossing it into his mouth and munching away.

Gamora shook her head with a faint smile. "No. I don't quite trust these guys yet. Might be wise for one of us to be on our feet if that food turns out to be poisoned or something."

Saal stopped chewing for a second, then forced himself to swallow. "That's... nice." Suddenly the food wasn't all that tempting anymore. "Was that what you and Peter were talking about?"

"No, that was me persuading him to keep from tossing our new friends out into deep space."

Choking on air, Saal sent her a wide-eyed look. "What? Why would he do that?" He glanced in the direction where Peter had stomped off. "What is going on with that man?"

Finally there was a hint of a smile to Gamora's lips. "He's jealous."

Saal frowned. "Jealous? That's preposterous! He was trying his damndest to endear himself to Tuley only a couple of hours ago."

Gamora shrugged. "Habit, I suppose. I never claimed he wasn't a hypocrite, Denarian. And not only Tuley. He nearly had a fit over the other one too."

"What other one?" Saal snapped, more than a little annoyed now. "There was no other one."

"The captain?" Gamora shrugged. "Peter said the two of you were... cozy."

Saal rolled his eyes. "Give me strength. Captain Reyne was only being polite. There was no... flirting going on. At all." 

Was there? He couldn't have missed that, could he? Nate had been friendly, but that was it. Tuley had made it very clear she was interested, but Saal had not picked that up from Nate. 

"Try telling that to Peter," Gamora sounded dangerously amused.

"The man is both hallucinating 'and' a hypocrite," Saal muttered, going back to put in an effort to empty his plate and maybe die of poisoning before he had to deal with the man-child named Peter Quill.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And for this chapter, the roles of Nate and Tuley would be played by Nathan Fillion and Morena Baccarin. The twins would mean doubled up of Katrina Law. Just so you can put some faces to the names.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again Saal rolled his eyes at Peter's behavior. "Don't even start! The man was trying to be civil, nothing more. As was I. While you were busy trying to chat up Tuley. Do grow up, Peter."
> 
> Temper flared again as Saal was about to turn and walk away. Peter wasn't even aware of grabbing his arm before he'd done it and tugged him back to face him. "I didn't want you talking to them!"
> 
> Yanking his arm free, Saal was obviously turning angry now. "Oh, really? Too damn bad you don't get to dictate what I can and cannot do, Quill! You are not Nova Prime, last I checked, nor a Centurion in the Xandarian army!"

The day seemed to drag on forever! Peter could not believe how long a couple of repairs could take! And he couldn't even complain about it, as Rocket threatened to place a smart-bomb somewhere on his person if he entered the engine room one more time.

Even the food was tainted as he had to watch Tuley and Reyne hover on each side of Saal, probably working on persuading him to jump ship and join them instead.

Garthan wouldn't do that, would he? No. No, he wouldn't, but Denarian Saal might possibly consider it?

After all, Peter had kidnapped and tricked him to get him here. Put him in a situation where he had no choice but to break his precious law. Then showed him a truth he might not even be ready for.  
  
Then along comes this Captain Nate, law-abiding cargo hauler, with his pretty girls and his pretty face.

Peter should have shot him when he had the chance...

Claiming he was heading back to their ship to check on Groot, Peter stomped off.  
He tried to tell himself he wasn't sulking or hiding from watching Saal discovering there were plenty of souls in this galaxy eager to get some of that fine Denarian.

Painfully aware of that he was everything Saal despised, Peter couldn't help wondering if Saal was already considering trading him out for a better, law-abiding model?

Why the hell did Starlord have to get stuck on the galaxy's white knight? Why couldn't Peter just have found himself a hot little smuggler lady? Or a beefy mercenary? Or both?  
WHY a Nova Corps officer, with the law in his veins?!

Sighing, he spent the next hours alone on his ship. Checking up on Groot, having a beer, playing a couple of rounds of a game on the ship's computer, until Drax appeared and finally, FINALLY announced that the repairs were done.

Not a moment too soon, Peter decided and got up from the pilot seat to join the big guy in saying goodbye to Captain Nate and his crew.

As expected, the man was busy saying sweet nothings to Saal when Peter arrived to the hallway connecting the ships and the Ravager felt a wave of anger rush through him.  
It took no small amount of will-power to keep calm and seemingly unaffected.

Exchanging goodbyes went well and if Peter was a little quick to slam the door shut, nobody commented on it.

It was only when the other ship detached and started sliding away that Peter could feel himself exhale with relief.

At least Saal hadn't decided to jump ship, literally. Not yet anyway.

Everyone started to head in different directions and only the Denarian lingered.

Glancing over, Peter was surprised to see the old familiar scowl back on Saal's face. "What?"

"What? I'll tell you what," Saal growled, taking a step towards him. "You have been acting like a petulant child all bloody day!"

"No, I haven't!" Peter shot back, taking a step forward as well. "You're just pissed 'cos Captain pretty-face left without you!"

Once again Saal rolled his eyes at Peter's behavior. "Don't even start! The man was trying to be civil, nothing more. As was I. While you were busy trying to chat up Tuley. Do grow up, Peter."

Temper flared again as Saal was about to turn and walk away. Peter wasn't even aware of grabbing his arm before he'd done it and tugged him back to face him. "I didn't want you talking to them!"

Yanking his arm free, Saal was obviously turning angry now. "Oh, really? Too damn bad you don't get to dictate what I can and cannot do, Quill! You are not Nova Prime, last I checked, nor a Centurion in the Xandarian army!"

"No, I..." Peter grit his teeth in an effort to reign in his temper. "I know that, okay?" He made a frustrated sound and drew both his hands through his hair. "Look, I know I'm just 'a criminal' in your eyes, dude. And that guy... and his crew... Why wouldn't you trade us for them?"

There was what felt like the longest silence in the history of silence and just as Peter was about to make a run for it, Saal reached out and gently cupped his face between his hands.  
"Oh, Peter..." Saal shook his head with a faint smile. "You are much, much more than just 'a criminal', you know?"

Peter hardly dared to breathe. "Yeah...?"

-

"Yeah," Saal confirmed, all his anger gone as he realized the reason behind Peter's rude behavior. 

How could anyone so full of himself be that uncertain of himself? Again, Peter Quill, the walking paradox.

He leaned closer, holding that green gaze with his own. "You are also a drunkard and a gambler." 

Peter blinked surprised.

"An incorrigible flirt," Saal continued. "As long as it has a pulse."

The Terran drew a breath, wanting to object.

"Basically," Saal interrupted, "the biggest hedonist I've ever met."

Peter tried and failed at a smile, wanting to pull away, and Saal couldn't keep up the act anymore.  
The Denarian urged him to meet his eyes again. "But you are also kind. Loyal. Brave to the edge of stupid..." That made them both smile, but Saal had to continue. "You have a good heart, Peter."

"And pretty," Peter stated quietly, pushing forward into a hug and Saal felt a faint tremor go through the Terran when his arms settled around him. "You forgot to tell me I'm pretty."

"And you're pretty," Saal mumbled against the unruly mop of hair on top of Peter's head.

It was almost painful to know how little Peter valued himself. Saal had attributed his suicidal antics to him not thinking about consequences, now he knew it was because he thought nobody cared about the consequences. Nobody cared whether he lived or died.

The thought was too horrible to endure...

Leaning down, Saal pressed a light kiss by Peter's cheekbone. "Although, I must admit," he whispered, "that Nate chap wasn't all that ugly either..."

Peter leaned back with a scandalized sound. "I knew it!"

Saal raised an eyebrow. "Please. You were so busy trying to get into Tuley's knickers that you wouldn't have noticed if I had stuck my tongue down his throat."

"I was just trying to dig out info on their cargo, if it was worth anything," Peter snapped angrily and he was suddenly leaning real close. "And, trust me, I would have noticed!"

Saal knew he probably should be offended. Either by Peter basically accusing him of being a creature with no self-control or by the Terran's irrational claim on him! But for some reason, as Peter Quill was staring at him with a defiant greed, Saal felt liquid heat pooling in his lower belly and an almost dizzy giddiness spreading through the rest of him.

Denarian Saal was broken and in ruins, yet Peter was craving and guarding him like he was every bit as precious and powerful as one of the Infinity Stones. 

It was, put mildly, intoxicating.

What was it about that blasted man which made Saal forget all previous notions of right and wrong and common decency?

Saal slowly let the tip of his tongue sneak out to wet his lips and only had time to make a tiny, startled sound as the other man just about pounced on him.  
Taking the soldier's face between his hands, Peter rushed forward to claim his lips, making him shuffle backwards.

"Had enough of..." "Fucking tease..." Those were some of the words Saal managed to catch between open and hungry kisses, but then his back hit a wall and all bets were off.

Raising his own hands to take a hold of the collar on Peter's shirt, Saal spun him around and shoved him against the wall, without breaking the kiss they were locked in.

The Terran was trying to both pull him closer and shove off Saal's jacket at the same time, but a tiny voice of reason struggled to be heard at the back of Saal's head.  
Groaning, the Denarian moved down to draw his lips over Peter's neck. "Wait," he panted.

"No," was the firm reply, pulling him up with an almost painful grip by the hair to kiss him again.

"Mmpf, wait..." Saal objected weakly against the lips, kissing back despite himself. "Wait, wait, wait..."

"No." Peter spun them around once more and slammed him back against the wall before sliding a muscular thigh between Saal's and placed firm pressure where he wanted it the most.

Exhaling sharply and closing his eyes briefly at the intense flood of pleasure that went through him at the contact, Saal struggled to find his voice and regain his willpower.  
Taking a hold of Peter's hair, the Denarian pulled his head back and held him at a small distance, ignoring the objections, so he could meet his gaze and say what was on his mind. "Not here," Saal panted. "Okay? Getting caught once was more than enough for me..."

-

Peter wanted to scream with frustration. Who cared if the entire Xandarian army walked in on them?

Trying to lean forward to kiss Saal into forgetting his reservations didn't work as the damn man wouldn't release his iron grip, no matter how his hips twitched when Peter rolled his own against him.  
Closing his eyes, admitting defeat, Peter actually growled. "Fine."  
He, very slowly, eased away and allowed Saal to straighten and gather himself. "Go."

The soldier licked his lips, damn him, before he smoothed his hair and sauntered off in direction of their room.

Peter drew a deep, deep breath, then followed.

Sulking and gritting his teeth all the way, once again lamenting why he'd grown so fascinated with the ONE prude existing in this galaxy, Starlord was so lost in his own grumblings that he was unprepared for when Saal yanked him inside the room and slammed the door shut.

All crankiness vanished in a laugh as they tumbled down on the bed, playfully fighting for dominance until Peter decided it was definitely not a defeat to relish in the weight of the soldier on him and how it freed his hands to slide through the smooth black hair in order to hold him still to steal more kisses.

Getting undressed was also much easier when they were cooperating.

Baring Saal's skin to greedy touches and kisses, Peter noted with glee that they had finally arrived to the point where the man bared himself without concern for his scars.

But then his ability to think at all was severely damaged when Saal's lips and teeth met his neck, biting and sucking hard the tender skin there, leaving him to shudder helplessly and choke down on an embarrassing moan.  
The man learned fast!

"I want you," Saal whispered, his lips brushing by Peter's ear. His hands, thrumming with barely restrained strength, moved restlessly over the other man. 

Exhaling a shaky laugh, Peter wrapped his legs tightly around Saal's waist and squirmed teasingly against him. "You need a written invitation?"

This obviously made Saal's blood heat up even more. The Denarian couldn't help his own hips moving to meet him, even as he reached out to open the drawer in the nightstand. He picked up the small vial there and opened it, leaning up to murmur in Peter's ear; "I honestly cannot decide whether you are my savior..."

Peter closed his eyes and arched his back in lazy pleasure when slick fingers breached him.

"Or my downfall," Saal said, placing an open kiss on Peter's left nipple.

Breathing hard, the Terran struggled to speak. "Both. Why not... both? Both is... good." He ran a hand through Saal's hair, taking a hold to urge him close to that sensitive skin while clever fingers continued their work. "So very... very good..."

Adding a touch of teeth to his kiss, Saal seemed to relished how it made Peter hiss with satisfaction, then he shifted his attention over to his other nipple. "Ah, but as you have taught me, Peter Quill..." He let his tongue slide over the tempting flesh before pressing his finger down on where he knew it would cause a white explosion of pleasure, "sometimes, it's good to be bad."

Peter's hands flew to grasp Saal's shoulders, his body bucked hard, and he gasped out a mindless sound of shocked delight.

Smirking with smug triumph, the Denarian waited a few seconds, until Peter's body had stopped trembling and he regained some of his wits, then the finger pressed down again.  
This time, the Terran was left a trembling mess until Saal stretched out on top of him and sought out his lips with his own.

-

Wrapping his arms around Saal's shoulders, Peter gave a shaky smile against his lips. "I knew you were a fast learner, but damn...!"

A deep laugh vibrated from deep within Saal's chest while he pulled one of Peter's legs high up over his waist. "I had an excellent teacher..."

There was a moment when the Denarian pushed into that exquisite heat when they were both rendered speechless, reduced to sharp breaths and choked sounds.

Once his senses somewhat returned to him, Peter groped blindly at Saal's back, urging him to move, and had to close his eyes tightly against the glorious feeling of it all when the man obeyed.  
Every push, every withdrawal, it made Peter fail to hold back small moans at the end of his every exhale and his arms tightened increasingly fiercer around Saal.

He made a sound of protest when the soldier suddenly pulled his hands away to push them against the sheets next to his shoulders, but conceded when the hands slid up and fingers braided with his own in a firm grip.

Holding on tight, Peter kept changing between drawing Saal into deep kisses and arching back into the mattress while trying to remember how to breathe.

Whatever curses he'd flung out in the past about lawmen, he was ready to take it all back.  
They were wonderful creatures with lovely muscles, endless stamina and a will-power that could make a grown man cry from a combination of frustration and bliss.

Peter had always been a greedy man, blame it on him growing up with Yondu and his crew, so it was new to be stuck between wanting his release and yet not wanting this feeling to end.

Saal simply worked them higher and higher on pleasure until it all became a blur of sweaty skin, open mouths and dancing muscles.

When he eventually let go of Peter's hands, it was to grasp his hips and lift him up to go even deeper and Starlord could feel himself tense up with the promise of an impending release.

Flailing, Peter's hands moved restlessly over sheets and hot skin in search of something to hold on to before locking on to Saal's upper arms.

After that he could simply focus on the growing tension until it suddenly erupted. The intensity of it all made Peter curl inwards towards Saal, sinking his teeth painfully into the area between his shoulder and his neck as he shook through it. 

Waves upon waves of bliss rushing through and out of him.

He only faintly registered Saal's half-strangled sound seconds later and the hard tremors going through him as he followed Peter over the edge.

Slumping back into the pillows, Peter was breathing hard and shuddered with an odd combination of regret and relief when the other man pulled away and collapsed next to him. Glancing over, he saw the Denarian lie panting as well with his eyes closed, his hair a mess and his skin shining with sweat. And marked by Peter Quill.

Peter reached over and gently drew the back of two fingers over the bite mark. "Sorry about that."

No, he wasn't.

Saal tuned his face to glance over at him, a lazy grin playing on his lips. "No, you're not."

Peter was physically unable to keep from grinning back. "No, I'm not."

Laughing, Saal leaned over to steal a kiss Peter was most willing to hand over before the two settled quietly for a while, allowing their bodies to calm down and savoring the pleasant heaviness in their limbs.

Eventually Peter couldn't stop himself and rolled over on his side to face Saal with a smug smile. "So... you do think I'm pretty, huh?" Of course he was. A lot more good looking than that other guy!

That made the dark haired man laugh again. "I believe we both know 'you' think you're pretty."

Shrugging, Peter dragged himself up to slump over Saal's chest and gazed down at him, still smirking. "But I wanna know what 'you' think. Tell me. Honestly. I can handle it."

"I think," Saal sighed peacefully as he wrapped his arms around Peter, "that your ego is already overinflated on that particular area."

Peter wanted to argue that point, declaring how a guy could never hear he was hot enough times, but he couldn't find the energy and merely sank down to enjoy the moment instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Apologies! Due to travel, next chapter will be delayed until the weekend...


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Quill was a criminal, something Saal had been raised to despise! Yet, it was Peter who had dragged Garthan back to life when people had shied away merely because his skin had been damaged.
> 
> Could Saal ever go back to seeing things in plain black and white?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the absence. Should be back on track now!

Another morning began with Peter curled up under the sheets and answering any questions with one syllable words or grunts so Saal decided once more to let the man sleep while he got up.

Rocket, Groot and Gamora was already awake and greeted him in the common room.  
It was only during the end of his breakfast meal that Drax appeared, but delayed due to training instead of sleep.

It was somewhat worrying how easily Saal had settled into their company since his arrival on the ship. 

They were guilty of everything from petty theft to murder and the Denarian had no trouble turning his back to them while rinsing off his breakfast plate, listening to them arguing about trivial stuff and wondering if he should risk adding more Nova Force to Groot today.  
The little guy had been asleep for most of the day yesterday and all of the night according to Rocket. The growth spurt had clearly exhausted him. It. Whatever. Fine. Him! And Saal didn't want to end up hurting him.

When there eventually was the sound of feet dragging across the floor, Saal was almost prepared for the arms that went around his waist and the warm weight slumping against his back this time.

"Doing dishes?" Peter slurred. "First you make dinner, now you're doing dishes? Are you sure you're the same snooty officer who shipped us off to Kyln?"

Saal snorted softly. "A good soldier knows the importance of a well-fed stomach and having his surroundings in order, unlike certain slobs, oh grand 'Starlord'."

Peter stretched up and forward, biting down on where he knew Saal's shirt was covering the mark he'd left the night before. The Denarian had to choke down a startled sound.

"If you're gonna say my name like that, then you don't get to say it at all," Peter admonished tartly. 

Saal shivered, not sure whether to push him away or ask him to do it again. The skin throbbed, not painfully so but enough to toss him back to the moment when he'd received the mark. 

And to make matters worse, he could actually feel Peter's silent laugh vibrating against his body before the Terran pulled away to hunt for his own breakfast.

Clenching his hands into fists, Saal drew a deep, calming breath in an effort to block out the effect the damn man had on him.  
He had years of experience in self-control, dammit! Garthan Saal would not be undone by a simple man!

But that was the problem, wasn't it? Saal glanced over at Peter, currently trying to pester Drax into making him something eatable, there was nothing simple about Peter Quill.

No matter how Saal tried, there was just no one category to slot him into. 

Saving Xandar, risking his life against Ronan, it had made him a hero, but Peter was also selfish, lazy and a thief. Hardly the kind of hero children should be reading about in history books and aspire to emulate.  
Peter Quill was a criminal, something Saal had been raised to despise! Yet, it was Peter who had dragged Garthan back to life when people had shied away merely because his skin had been damaged.  
Saal had once thought he knew everything.

Peter changed that. Kept changing it. And Saal wondered how much of himself had changed with that.

Could he ever go back to seeing things in plain black and white?

His thought process was interrupted when he heard Peter calling out his name and he glanced over.

"You know what I realized?" The Terran asked in the middle of chewing whatever food he had scrounged together, giving yet another example of his bad manners. 

"What?" Saal asked, moving over to sit down by the table with him and the others. "And don't talk with your mouth full."

Swallowing down the food in one gulp, Peter then gave him a wide grin. "I still haven't gotten to train with you. I mean, you've had a go with both Gamora and Drax. I'm starting to feel left out here!"

Saal felt the tip of his ears burning under the suggestive tilt to that grin and to buy himself time he reached out to take a sip of Peter's cup, which contained some hot dark liquid. It tasted bitter. Awfully bitter. "I didn't know you... trained."

"Dude!" Peter flexed his right arm, showing off a very nice bicep. "You think these babies are fake?"

Smiling into the cup, Saal gave a one-shouldered-shrug. "Fine, you're on."

While it made the Terran cackle and send him lewd glances, Rocket made a gagging sound and got up.  
"C'mon, Groot," the raccoon dragged the pot with him. "We're not going near that cargo room for the next day or so!"

Gamora leaned back and raised her eyebrows with a knowing smile. "Oh, I don't know. Might be interesting to... watch."

Saal felt the heat spreading from his neck and ears to his entire face, but Peter laughed out loud. 

Drax shrugged. "I do not think so. Neither of them are exceptional fighters and they most likely plan to engage in foreplay instead of actual training."

That was the point when Saal got up and left the room.

Peter merely laughed even louder.

-

Partly due to anticipation and partly due to how uncomfortable it made Saal, Peter couldn't help grinning as he watched the Denarian strip himself of his jacket and did a couple of stretching moves in preparation for their training.

Well, Starlord had called it training, but he knew nobody thought it was anything but a flimsy excuse for him to get his hands on that man.

Saal was wearing all black with a t-shirt and a pair of uniform pants, looking every bit the top trained officer he was supposed to be. Peter did his part to look like a Ravager with a worn blue v-neck and dark grey pants.

"Are you ready?" The Ravager asked with glee when Saal stepped forward towards the middle of the cargo room. "And it's only fair I warn you, man: I'm pretty famous for walking away from a fight as the winner!"

Nodding affably, Saal rolled his shoulders before getting into a fighting stance. "I consider myself warned, Quill." He raised his fists as well as his eyebrows. "Are you ready?"

Peter felt his fight or flight instincts kicking in. "Born ready."

The first punches thrown were trying, both testing and gauging the responses coming from their opponent.  
From there they got into a pretty good work out.

It was Saal who got the upper hand first, pulling his old trick of shoving Peter against the wall, face first and with his arm twisted up behind his back.

Peter quickly realized that the soldier had an iron grip on him, one that he wouldn't be able to break by brute force, so he leaned back against him with a wicked grin. "You know, I've been thinking about this position, up against a wall... but in a completely different setting, if you catch my drift..."

He could feel the faint shiver go through Saal, the muscles easing down as the Denarian was thrown off guard by the suggestive words, so Peter jabbed an elbow into his stomach and broke free.

Grunting at the impact, Saal spun around to face him with an annoyed expression. "Peter..."

"What?" Peter asked, grinning from ear to ear. 

Saal rolled his shoulders, exhaled, then got back into a fighting position. Clearly aiming not to fall for that trick again.

The soldier was an excellent fighter, Peter had to give him that.  
Saal was quick, strong and precise. He had years of training that the Ravager would never had the patience for. It came as no surprise that Peter couldn't really keep up with him, but surprises were what Starlord did best.

When Saal sent Peter on his back, quickly straddling his lower stomach and holding up a fist to underline how he could deliver a finishing punch, the Terran met his gaze with calm confidence.

"You know," Peter said, starting a slow, suggestive wiggle underneath him, "this is a new position for us. One we haven't tried yet..."

He could actually see the mental image forming behind Saal's dark eyes and the man struggled fiercely against letting it distract him again, but it was a battle doomed to fail as Peter kept moving underneath him and ran his hands up the soldier's thighs.  
The second he saw Saal's fist waver and the tip of his tongue making a guest appearance between his lips, Peter anchored his hands on the man's hips and flipped him over. 

Hitting the floor hard, Saal blinked with surprise but didn't really have time for a counter-attack as Peter hovered over him for a mere second before squirming his way down his body. "You know what else I've been thinking about?"

Clearly confused whether they were still training or had moved on to something else, the Denarian cleared his throat. "W-what...?"

Starlord placed a teasing kiss on his shirt-covered stomach before moving lower. "Well..."  
There was an instinctive twitch in Saal's hips and an uneven breath hitching in his throat when Peter kissed an even more sensitive place before he grinned up at the dark haired man. "What it would feel like with your mouth on my dick..."

He slithered his way up the gorgeous body again, noting a second shudder go through it, and stole a kiss from aforementioned mouth.

By now Saal was starting to get quite hazy eyed with lust and his hands had moved, probably without conscious permission, to Peter's hips.

Peter waggled his eyebrows. "You give up? So we can move on to other stuff?"

The second the words left his lips and registered with Saal, the Ravager could see the dark eyes narrow stubbornly. 

Uh oh.

-

Using both hands to deliver a hard shove at Peter's chest, Saal sent the man to land on his backside while he himself got up on his feet.  
"You know," he exhaled, with no small amount of frustration, "one day, those tacky tricks of yours won't work on me."

But Saal knew the flush on his face and the tension in his frame gave Peter all the ammunition he needed.

Getting up on his feet as well, Peter was grinning again, brimming with that disgusting confidence that Saal wished wasn't so damn arousing as well. "Maybe. But they're working now."

Saal glared.  
Then he got back into his fighting stance.

It turned into something of a real battle after that.

Saal fighting to keep his dignity and his clothes on and Peter Quill using all kinds of tricks to get his greedy hands and lips on him.

Eventually the soldier was both angry and horny as hell. 

The kisses and caresses Peter stole was slowly allowed to linger longer, just as the shoves Saal used to push him away grew harder.

Basically, he couldn't quite decide whether he wanted to strangle the Terran or shag him.

In the end it was Drax, of all people, who made the decision for him.

Just as Saal managed to dodge Peter's lips, Drax' voice spoke up.  
"I win the bet!"

Peter halted his advances and glanced over to see the massive man by the hallway. "What bet?"

"Rocket bet you two would be naked by now!" Drax announced.

Saal scoffed with offence. "That bloody hamster...!"

"Well, he would have been," Peter whined, "if the guy hadn't been so damn stubborn!"

If looks could kill, the one Saal sent the man would have left him stone dead.  
Peter grinned in return.

"Any particular reason to your presence?" Saal grit out to Drax, trying to keep his already riled up anger in check. "Or are you here just to settle your childish bet?"

"Food will be ready within the hour," Drax said. "There will also be bottles of alcohol left by Captain Reyne." He seemed to look forward to that part.

Saal nodded. "Ok. Thanks." He walked over and picked up his jacket. "I'm going to hit the shower." Without looking over, the Denarian pointed a stern finger at Peter as he took a step closer. "You! You don't get to enter the room before I'm done. Are we clear?"

The steel in his voice encouraged no debate.

"Aw, man," Peter complained. "Really?"

"Really," Saal deadpanned and stalked off.

Taking the first cold shower in his life, the soldier didn't feel his mood improving after that experience. 

The want for Peter Quill had burrowed under his skin and had only retreated into manageable levels instead of vanishing completely with the discomfort of ice cold water.  
It felt like an itch he knew he wouldn't get scratched because of his own stubbornness and it was making him even more grumpy.

Saal felt his pulse jump simply by passing a grinning Peter, who was hovering outside the door as if he could sense the Denarian's thoughts, but he did his best to ignore him and grimly walked out of the room.

The others, sans Groot, had gathered around the table in the common room and there was the heavy smell of food in the air, but Saal dove directly for one of the glasses filled with the alcohol he'd tasted from Reyne's flask.

He hesitated to take the first sip, but then Rocket lifted his own glass and saluted Saal's ability to resist Quill and declared that the Denarian now owed him five hundred credits for being a prude, and suddenly Saal felt the urge to down an entire bottle of the foul tasting alcohol.

Things didn't improve when Peter joined them as well, looking good enough to tempt a saint.

Saal refilled his glass.  
It was going to be a long evening.

-

Peter would never like Nate Reyne, but he did bless him for leaving behind an entire crate of heavy liquor as payment for helping them out.

He watched as his teammates, especially Saal, got more and more drunk as the hours passed. It was the first time Starlord made sure to keep his own drinking to a minimum. Something told him that this was something he'd want to remember.

Drax was laughing, Rocket was yelling or possibly singing something, Gamora was leaning back in her chair with a secret smile on her lips and the dark haired Xandarian prince was wearing a lovely drunken flush over his cheekbones as he tried to hide his glances over at Peter.

For the next hours, they talked, ate, laughed and, most importantly, drank.

Yeah, peaceful nights like these were rare and Peter definitely wanted to remember it.

Good things never lasted, he'd learned that growing up, and it was important to store memories of those that did take place. Memories were the only things people couldn't steal from you.

At one point, he put Awesome Mix Volume 1 on the speakers and tried once more to persuade Gamora into letting him teach her how to dance.  
"What if we get into another dangerous battle and need to use the dance-off again?" Peter argued.

Gamora merely raised her eyebrows and leaned even further back into her chair. "Somehow I doubt that."

Peter huffed and placed his hands on his hips. "This is serious!" He waved a hand in Saal's general direction. "I would ask His Highness over there, but he's still pissed about losing our training session, so help me out here, hah?"

Laughing softly, Gamora shook her head and lifted her glass again. "Nice try. But no."

"Fine! But don't blame me if we all get killed during the next battle!" Peter slumped down next to Saal, placing one hand on his thigh and using his other hand to point an accusing finger at each Guardian in turn. "I'm just saying!" Then he downed the contents of his own glass in one swallow, pretending not to feel it burning all the way down to his stomach.

"You're always so dramatic," Saal stated with a slight drawl, very drunk by now, and cut off the indignant objections from Peter by suddenly moving over to straddle his lap.

Caught completely off guard, Starlord flailed for a second, giving Saal enough time to cup his face and pull him into a wet kiss that made him whine an inarticulate objection when the soldier ended it and pulled away to get up on his feet.  
Barely noticing Rocket threatening them both, Peter merely reached out in vain to stop Saal from pulling away, but he was already out of reach. "Wait, what... Where do you think you're going?"

Saal smirked, swaying slightly. "What? Do you give up? So we can move over to... other stuff?"

Peter recognized the words he'd used against Saal earlier during their training, but luckily he had no dignity or standards to worry about. "Hell yeah! I give up! I quit. You win."

Exhaling a laugh, Saal gave a drunken and beautiful smile, open and vulnerable. "You're such a tosser..." He reached out a hand. "C'mon then."

Eagerly taking a hold of his hand, letting Saal pull him up on his feet as while nearly losing balance himself, Peter had to laugh a little himself. 

The man was completely wasted. Either the soldiers on Xandar had a low tolerance to alcohol or Saal was out of practice. Whatever the reason, the man would probably be mortified tomorrow if he learned how forward he'd been in front of the others so Peter figured he might as well get something out of it. And with Saal's inhibitions gone, things could get 'really' interesting!

The two stumbled along towards their room. Saal doing the stumbling and Peter keeping them on course.

Once inside, Saal fell back on the bed and sighed satisfied. "Oh, this is nice..." He closed his eyes with another and slightly longer sigh. "Oh dear... The room is spinning..."

Peter placed a knee on the bed, but froze as it made the dark haired man open his eyes and look at him under heavy eyelashes.

"Mmmh, you really are gorgeous, you know?" Saal slurred, his eyes drifting shut again.

For the bigger part of his adult life, most of his lovers had been keen to compliment Peter on his appearance, but this was the first time he felt flustered and flattered. Clearing his throat, he made his way over to lie next to Saal. "Yeah, well, so are you, big boy."

Scoffing, Saal rolled over on his side to turn his back to him. "Maybe once. Not anymore."

Saddened by the words and not surprised to hear the light snore that followed them, Peter reached out and drew light fingers over Saal's nape. "You are to me."

Then he simply curled up next to him, listening to Saal breathe and waited for sleep to claim him as well. He tried very hard not to think about how he'd rather lie there than return to the party...


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denarian Saal had been shot several times during his career. He knew how much bullets, knives and grenades hurt. He obviously must have been hit by everything. At once. In his head.
> 
> It was the only explanation he had for the utter agony he woke up to.
> 
> His entire body was aching, but his head was threatening to explode at every sound and movement.

Denarian Saal had been shot several times during his career. He knew how much bullets, knives and grenades hurt. He obviously must have been hit by everything. At once. In his head.

It was the only explanation he had for the utter agony he woke up to.

His entire body was aching, but his head was threatening to explode at every sound and movement.  
As if it didn't want to be left out, his stomach also rolled and declared its plans for getting rid of everything in its possession at the slightest provocation.

Why oh why hadn't his fellow soldiers merely put him out of his misery?

Eventually he managed to piece together the fact that he was not shot, not dying, but hung-over and lying on his stomach in bed.

Sometime during the night, Peter had managed to get the sheet over them and a weight on Saal's lower back told him the Terran was asleep as well, still set on using the Denarian as his own personal pillow.

The peace and quiet was shattered when there was a knock on the door and Saal shuddered as new waves of nausea and pain rolled through him.

The visitor didn't wait for an answer and the door opened to reveal Gamora. "Morning," she chirped as she walked inside the room. "I come bringing gifts!"  
The assassin placed a glass with some nasty looking liquid on the nightstand before frowning confused. "Where's Peter?"

Saal, very carefully, lifted a hand and pointed to the lump under the sheets.

"And here I thought you might be too hung-over for that kind of activity," Gamora stated, sounding more than a little impressed.

Closing his eyes for a second, swallowing down another wave of nausea, Saal managed eventually to focus on her again. "He's... asleep." He gingerly cleared his throat, trying to turn on his side without waking Peter, and gestured faintly towards the glass. "What's... that?" 

"Special recipe," Gamora smirked. "Drink it."

Hesitating, Saal decided that it was probably better to die a quick death of poisoning rather than this slow torture. He reached out a trembling hand, took a hold of the glass and quickly swallowed the contents.

The second he tasted it, he regretted his decision. 

Nothing was worth that horrid taste!

He was still gagging and coughing long after Gamora had left and Peter woke up, emerging from underneath the sheet with a confused look and no hang-over, the traitor.

It turned out that Gamora hadn't given him poison after all and Saal could feel life returning to him. He was even well enough to accompany Peter when he decided to head for the common room.

Drax was nursing a headache of his own, making him even more quiet than usual, and Rocket merely kept sending Saal a blaming look that the Denarian was too tired to decipher. He just wanted to cling to his cup of green tea for a few days.

"I still can't believe she gave you her hang-over miracle cure!" Peter repeated for the sixteenth time. "I mean, I've been begging her for it so many times and she's left me to suffer! But you she pampers!"

Saal managed a faint smile, taking a sip of his tea. "Maybe because she knows I appreciate it and will repay her kindness when I get the chance?"

Peter huffed. "You mean she will blackmail you for it later? Sounds like Gamora!"

"No, that wasn't what I meant," Saal sighed, but it was no point. Peter would think whatever Peter wanted to and he simply didn't have the energy to argue against his 'logic'.

As the mystery cure did its magic, Saal eventually dared to try eating a light breakfast and was relieved when his stomach happily welcomed it instead of deciding to throw it all back up.

He celebrated by stretching out on the sofa, shoving pillows behind his back for support, and picked up the book he'd started reading at the beginning of this odd journey, now more than a little curious whether the characters would be able to destroy that ring of theirs after all.

Saal glanced over when Peter came back into the common room, having left it to fetch an ancient looking gun of all things, and he raised a curious eyebrow as the Terran headed straight for him.

Unceremoniously shoving one of his legs off the sofa, Peter then sat down between his thighs and inched backwards until he could lie back comfortably and Saal realized he'd been upgraded from a mere pillow to a mattress.

Once settled, Peter started taking his gun apart and pulled out a small rag from his pocket to clean the parts.

Resigning himself to his fate, Saal merely raised the book again with one hand and let the other absently run through Peter's hair.

It all felt too natural. Peter's physical presence, the sound of Drax sharpening his blades nearby, Rocket and Gamora talking, it should be either annoying or unfamiliar, not soothing!

This made everything so much more difficult when, later that day, Gamora returned from checking something in the cockpit and sent him an uneasy glance.

"When?" Saal asked, having felt the link to the Nova Force growing increasingly stronger since that morning.

"A couple of hours."

-

Ever since Gamora had announced the inescapable, there had been a change in the air.

There was a tension to Saal, Peter could feel it, even if the soldier didn't say anything or behave that much different until they were no more than fifteen minutes away and he declared he was going to get changed.  
Peter pretended not to see the looks exchanged between the others, merely followed the Denarian back to their room.

Starlord sat down on the bed, watching silently as Saal shed his borrowed clothes and feeling nothing but a strange emptiness as they were soon replaced by his old uniform.

He noticed the Denarian hadn't glanced his way once since they'd left the common room.

Saal even straightened to button up his jacket with his back towards him.

"You don't have to, you know," Peter forced himself to speak.

He didn't know whether it was the words or just the sound of his voice breaking the silence, but Saal froze and remained motionless for what felt like a small eternity.

Deciding to plow on, what did he have to lose, Peter got up and walked over to stand behind him.  
"You don't have to go..." Peter said quietly, staring at the broad back covered by uniform blue now. "You could stay here. With me."

Saal turned his head a little, but only to stare at the floor, remaining silent.

"Why not?" Wrapping his arms around Saal's waist, equally an act of defiance as a plea, Peter turned his face and rested his cheek to the unresponsive back. "You don't hate it here."

"Peter..."

"No. Don't tell me you hate it here. Don't lie to me, Garthan." Peter tightened his grip a little and felt Saal's hand covering one of his.

"Peter, I can't..." The Denarian said in something close to a pained whisper. "It's not that easy. I have responsibilities. I gave my word. I can't just walk away."

Starlord shut his eyes tight, knowing that if he'd still been capable of crying then there might actually have been tears at that very moment. "Can't or don't want to?"

He felt Saal's grip tighten on his fingers until they hurt. They both knew the second Saal stepped off the ship, he would never be back on it.

"I can't..." Saal finally managed to choke out.

Peter nodded, gathering himself and putting a lid on all the hurt inside threatening to spill out, at least he hadn't been completely wrong.  
Garthan Saal did care about him.

Just not enough.

He drew a deep breath, steeling himself, then yanked his hand free and walked out of the room without looking back.

It had been a foolish idea anyway. Doomed to fail.   
Peter should never have dragged Saal along for this mission. 

Entering the cockpit, he pretended not to see Drax' curious glance from the pilot seat and merely focused on what was occupying most of their view; Xandar.

The sooner they landed, the sooner they could get the hell away and never return!

It was the first time Peter found himself cursing Yondu for not being able to slap the sentiment out of him instead of resenting the old Ravager for trying to make him devoid of feelings.

-

It wasn't until he heard the landing process starting that Saal could make himself leave the room he'd shared with Peter.

He'd folded the clothes he'd claimed as his own during his stay into a nice pile on the chair, just as he'd found them on his arrival, but he couldn't look at the bed as he was leaving.  
If he dwelled, even for just one second, he wouldn't be able to leave at all.

Gamora and Peter was already waiting in the cargo room when he arrived.

Drax and Rocket's absence spoke louder than words. 

The assassin made no attempt to hide her disappointment in him and while that hurt, Saal knew it was nothing compared to the agony in Peter's eyes. 

He wanted so badly to hug the Terran close, kiss him one last time, beg him to be careful out there in space... Tell him that a big part of his soul would go with him.

As much as Saal would have liked to dream about a future for them together, his logical mind didn't allow it. Peter would never give up his life of crime and there were people who trusted Saal with their lives, which he had sworn to protect. 

Asking Peter to visit, keep in touch, would only make it worse every time Peter would leave and the pain even more agonizing when Saal learned of Peter's new bed-warmers... No, better to cut ties completely, for the both of them. 

Forcing himself to keep his focus on the ramp as it opened, the Denarian pulled his shoulders back and went into his soldier mode.   
There would be plenty of time to mourn later when Peter had left and he was alone.

Saal blinked with surprise at the small group of five soldiers waiting for them and among them, a young Millennian stepped forward. The surprise turned into resignation as he saw their eyes go to his scars and the disgust and/or pity that followed. He'd almost forgotten...

"Denarian Saal? I am Millennian Ares." The Millennian was as dark haired as Saal, but with blue eyes. "Nova Prime requests to speak with you." Gentle blue eyes, not yet hardened by war.  
But as Saal stepped forward with a brisk nod, the man added, "and Peter Quill."

Starting, the Denarian stared over and found an equally puzzled Peter. "Quill? Why?"

Peter shook his head, holding out his hands to show he was every bit as confused as him.

Dammit, Saal should never have trusted Peter to have sorted things out with Nova Prime! Who knew what kind of lies the idiot had told her! There was a reason why she was in charge!   
Not even a smart-ass like Peter Quill could trick Nova Prime!

Closing his eyes briefly, Saal then turned back to the Millennian. "Very well. Lead the way."

Ares shuffled his feet uneasily. "I, ah, was told that you and Quill were to report to Nova Prime. We are to, uhm, make sure the crew of the Milano have everything they require."

Make sure they didn't leave, in other words, Saal mused. What was going on?

Deciding to deal with one problem at the time, the Denarian stuck his chin out towards Peter. "Come on."

The Terran hesitated, looking from Gamora to the soldiers, but seemed to relax once the assassin sent him a lazy smile.  
Did he really think that a group of footsoldiers would be a threat to her?  
Saal glanced over at the one called Ares, seeing the young man stare with nothing but star-struck adoration at the woman, and he knew it wasn't Gamora who was in danger...

After that, Peter willingly followed when Saal marched off towards the exit.

They had left the building and was crossing a street on their way to the Nova Headquarter when Saal, trying hard to block out the people staring at his scarred face, couldn't keep quiet any longer.   
"What the bloody hell did you tell her? Why would she want to see you, Peter?"

Peter snorted, bristling with slight offence. "Maybe she has a crush on me?"

Saal sent him a dry look. "Really? That's your best idea?" 

No wonder he was always worrying the man would get himself shot!

"Dude, I got nothing, okay?"

Sighing, Saal gazed up at the tall building with the Nova Star. "Just... let me do the talking in there. I mean it, Peter. Let me handle it."

-

Stepping into the waiting room, Saal nodded a greeting to the secretary by the desk while Peter let out a slow whistle at the interior.

"You know, I know this guy who could fence these painting for a nice amount of units," the Ravager mused out loud as he stared at the walls.

Cringing, Saal glared over at him. 

Peter grinned back.

"One moment," the secretary said and lifted his hand to activate his communication device hanging from his ear. "Nova Prime, they're here." The secretary, a pretty blonde man, nodded at whatever was being said and lowered his hand again before turning his gaze back to the visitors. "Nova Prime will see you now."

Both men stepped forward but the secretary shook his head. "Just Denarian Saal, I'm afraid." He gave a tight smile. "She asks for a private meeting before speaking to... Mr Quill."

His sense of unease doubled, but Saal made himself appear calm and turned to the offended Peter. "Wait here. Don't... touch anything. Or say anything. Just.... stay."

The Terran put on a clearly fake smile and gave a dramatic military salute. "Sir, yes, sir!"

Rolling his eyes, Saal turned and entered the inner sanctum of Xandar's defenses; Nova Prime's office.

He had spent years and years in battle, but Saal still felt a knot of fear in his stomach when he came to a halt in front of her desk, hands behind his back and a neutral expression plastered on his face, waiting for the white haired woman to turn away from her window and face him.

What was going on? It was a question he'd been asking a lot since Ronan...

Finally Nova Prime turned and she gave him a wide smile. "Denarian Saal. Welcome back."

Nodding his gratitude, Saal was finding it hard to keep his impatience in check. Peter clearly had a bad influence on him. "Nova Prime. May I ask why Peter Quill was brought here as well?"

Nova Prime let her eyes rest on him for a while and he could feel her clever mind scanning him before she sat down in her chair and leaned back with easy confidence. "I take it he has treated you well?"

By pure will, Saal managed to keep the color from rising to his face. "I have no complaints."

"Good," Nova Prime stated and sounded quite pleased too "Good."

She seemed to hesitate before leaning slightly forward and placing her hands on her desk before piercing him with her eyes. "He 'is' a criminal, you know." Nova Prime gave a light shake of her head, somewhat baffled. "I do believe that man intended to kidnap you if I didn't give him permission to... 'borrow you'. I think that was his way of putting it."

Tension formed between his shoulders and the knot of worry in his stomach tightened even worse. Saal had to work hard to appear unaffected. "The man is impulsive. A Terran trait, I hear. And a criminal, yes. I know exactly what he is. But he did risk his life to save Xandar."

"I have a favor to ask of you in regards to Peter Quill," Nova Prime said, suddenly all business.

A favor? She wanted 'him' to send Peter to prison again? He had shipped Peter and his crew off to the Kyln without a second thought or much more than a twitch in his conscience, but could he do that again?  
Kyln was currently being rebuilt, but as the other jails were still full, it meant another high risk facility... 

Peter and the others could take care of themselves, Saal knew that, but if either one of them got hurt because of him, because of his orders, he did not want that on his mind in addition to having to leave the ship.

And why jail? There were no recent reports that the Milano had been involved in illegal activities.

Denarian Saal realized then that he was willing to risk his title, a title paid he had paid for in blood, to protect Peter and his crew from his own people.

Saal closed his eyes briefly, gathering himself, then focused on Nova Prime again. "As far as I know, there are no new warrants on Peter Quill nor his crew. Their old records were cleared and we cannot convict people based on rumors. If you have a problem with his antics of... 'borrowing' me, I shall gladly accept whatever punishment you see fit, but I must ask you that we let the Milano and her crew leave without further delay. We have no grounds to hold them here."

Nova Prime blinked. For a couple of seconds, she merely looked up at Saal with an unreadable expression. "You're defending him..."

Yes, he was. Fear and anger mixed in his blood as he got ready to continue defending him. Peter Quill had brought him back to life. The least Saal could do to repay him was to ensure his freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usually I don't do this, but the scene was so heavily influenced by the song, so during a possible re-read of this chapter, may I recommend listening to "Say Something" by A Great Big World for when Peter asks Saal to stay? ;)   
> (Not the version with Aguilera...)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter sent the secretary his widest grin, put on the charm, but the man seemed immune.  
> In fact, the blonde seemed more annoyed than anything, which made it damn difficult for Peter to sneak up to the office door to eavesdrop.
> 
> What was going on?
> 
> It didn't take that long to plan on a lowly Terran's execution, did it?

Saal opened his mouth to continue his tirade that they had no legal hold on Peter or his ship, but Nova Prime spoke first.

"Denarian Saal, I want you to keep an eye on Peter Quill for me."

Startled, Saal wasn't quite sure he'd heard her correctly. "Pardon?"

Nova Prime got up from her chair and walked around her desk to stand in front of Saal, gazing up at him. "You see, Peter Quill is a magnet for trouble. He needs someone to keep him from doing stupid things, like grabbing another Infinity Stone." She raised an eyebrow. "And there is also more to that boy than meets the eye. Those blood tests... Something tells me Peter Quill will be an important character in our future."

Frowning, even more confused, Saal shook his head. "Nova Prime, with all due respect... I'm not a spy. I can't..."

His words trailed off as Nova Prime reached out and placed her hand over his heart. "You're not happy here, Garthan. I can feel it. In there. You haven't been since the... accident."

Strangely embarrassed, Saal stared down at her hand. "I apologize, Nova Prime."

Shaking her head again, Nova Prime tapped her finger on his chest with a slight smile. "This last week, it is the first time I've felt you happy." She flicked her clever gaze up to his. "He makes you happy."

Opening and closing his mouth a couple of times, Saal's brain worked frantically to find the correct answer. Whether to deny or confirm. What strategy to choose? In the end, he settled for the truth. "He makes me a lot of things."

She had known all along. That was why she'd been so lenient earlier. Nova Prime was allowing her Denarian some slack to find his way back to life.

Nova Prime walked back to her chair and sat down. "Then, will you do me this favor?"

Hesitating, Saal shifted his weight uneasily. "You want me to go with Peter? What about the recruiting? The army is barely starting to take shape and I..."

"We can handle it," Nova Prime interrupted gently. "I called back a couple of Centurions from off-world. They are already looking through your notes."

Still hesitating, Saal considered it. In the end, he just needed an answer to a single question. "Why?"

This time the smile on Nova Prime's face was a sad one. "I mourned you, you know. After the battle. When they told me you had fallen, I mourned you. Learning you had survived, it was like a blessing from the Worldmind itself, but you didn't see it that way. The scars, the drinking... You became someone else, I could feel you wishing you had died after all, and it took Peter Quill to wake you from your nightmares."

"I'm cast out from the Corps?"

"No!" Nova Prime huffed. "No, not in the least! You have a home here, Garthan, whenever you need or want it. I fully expect you keep your Denarian rank with the responsibilities and privileges that follows it."

"You are aware of the fact that you are shipping me out with known criminals?"

"I have full confidence in you," Nova Prime replied, smirking.

Saal went quiet for a while, trying to work through what had just happened. "So... Just to make sure I understand, you want me to join Peter Quill and his crew onboard the Milano?"

"That is correct."

"And I'm not stripped of my rank or place on Xandar?"

"Correct."

"And in return, you want?" Saal wasn't so naive to think his wellbeing was all that Nova Prime was concerned about. There was definitely more to this than what she was telling him.

"Like I said, I want you to keep an eye on him."

Frowning, Saal was the one to scan her face this time. "Elaborate, please. What does that include?"

"Keep him out of as much trouble as possible. He still has a role to play in the future. I can feel it." Nova Prime raised her eyebrows as if to ask him if he still was unsatisfied with what she was offering.

It was too good to be true, Saal thought. But it did give him the opportunity and the excuse he needed! What if he didn't have to go back to being stared at like a freak? What if he didn't have to hide anymore? There would most certainly be hidden consequences and the true motive behind the offer would eventually reveal itself too, but wouldn't it be worth it? 

Peter Quill must have had even more bad influence on him than Saal had originally feared, because suddenly he was struck with the sudden urge to run out of the room before Nova Prime could change her mind.

"I expect to hear from you on a semi-regular basis," Nova Prime warned. "And if you do get caught doing something illegal, you're on your own. Understood?"

Nodding, Saal took a step backward. "Understood." He turned to walk away, but hesitated and glanced back at her a final time. "Thank you, Rael."

"Be safe," she replied softly.

-

Peter sent the secretary his widest grin, put on the charm, but the man seemed immune.  
In fact, the blonde seemed more annoyed than anything, which made it damn difficult for Peter to sneak up to the office door to eavesdrop.

Saal was taking forever in there!

What was going on?

It didn't take that long to plan on a lowly Terran's execution, did it?

Oh, wait, they didn't do that here on Xandar. They merely shipped people off to prison planets where other inmates did the dirty work for them.  
Great. Peter could look forward to another blue giant bestowing his affection on him and this time there would be no Groot to protect him. Yeah, great!

No, Saal wouldn't allow that.

The man might not care enough to run off with him, but he did care so it meant Peter was probably safe from jail at least.  
Maybe they would just get chased off the planet by an angry mob with pitchforks instead.

Sinking into a way too soft chair, Peter stared up at the ceiling with a dramatic groan to underline how bored he was.

The secretary was not impressed.  
Figured.

Just as Peter was considering singing drinking songs to entertain himself, the door to the office opened and Saal came walking out.

Jumping to his feet, Peter stood ready to be ordered into Nova Prime's office as well, so he was a little puzzled when the Denarian threw out a single order as he stalked by him.  
"Come."

Caught off guard, Peter numbly did as he was ordered and followed Saal back into the elevator.  
He watched as the Denarian pushed the button and waited patiently for an explanation.  
When it did not appear within ten seconds, Starlord threw out his arms. "Well?"

Saal kept his eyes on the numbers above the elevator door, counting down towards the ground floor. "Well, what?"

"Well, what the hell is going on?" Peter spelled out, getting more annoyed than curious now.  
By all accounts, he and the Guardians should have been long gone by now and Saal was supposed to be back doing his exciting desk duty.

"We're going to my apartment," Saal stated.

That was unexpected enough to keep Peter quiet for a little while longer, more specifically until they had exited the building and was back on the busy street.  
"Dude, either you tell me what is going on or I'm heading back to the ship."

"I will tell you once we get there," Saal replied absently, tugging him along as Peter purposely dragged his feet.

By the time they arrived at the apartment and Saal scanned his name-tag to open the door, the Ravager was gritting his teeth to keep his irritation in check.  
He waited until they had taken one step inside and the door closed behind them, then Peter yanked his arm free and glared at the dark haired soldier. "Okay. Why are we here?"

The place brought back too many bitter-sweet memories for his taste. 

How it had all started and what he'd never have again.

"We're here so I can pack my stuff," Saal said, walking over to open his wardrobe closet. "I'm going to need some decent clothes. And more books. My weapons. Stuff."

Frowning, even more confused now that he had gotten his answer, Peter shook his head. "Pack?" The man wasn't making any sense and the Terran had received more than enough of riddles for one day.  
He stalked over, grabbed a hold of Saal's arm and yanked him around to face him. "What are you talking about?"

Saal tried a faint smile. "Changed your mind? Don't want me onboard after all?"

Yeah, okay, now it wasn't physically possible to get more confused! Peter shook his head again. "You're coming with us? Why?"

"Nova Prime."

The growing hope and happiness died inside Peter's chest and he released Saal as if the touch burned him. "You're coming with us because you're ordered to?"

Reaching out to take a hold of Peter's hand before it could retreat completely, Saal held it tight. "No. Peter, no. That's not it." He breathed a faint laugh. "She just... She let me off the leash. She gave me the excuse I needed."

-

Peter didn't look fully convinced, but at least he didn't pull free.

How could Saal make him understand?  
He had to try, at least.

"Listen, what you asked of me... I couldn't do it." The Denarian gave an apologetic shrug. "You grew up as a pirate, but I grew up a soldier. I gave up so much for my work. It was my everything. My reason for getting up in the mornings. My one connection to my family. My life. You asked me to give it all up."

"Because you could have a new life, a better life!" Peter objected.

"I do not doubt your intentions," Saal soothed. "But I'm not like you. I take no joy in breaking the law just to break it. A life as an outlaw holds little temptation to me. And if you were to tire of my morals, I would be left with nothing. No Xandar. No new life."

The words appeared to be a slap to Peter's face and he flinched. "I wouldn't do that! I wouldn't just abandon you!"

"I want to believe you," Saal admitted. "But I barely know you! Let's face it, Peter, during our short acquaintance over these months there hasn't been an overabundance of talking. I hardly know anything about you, other than your rap sheet and I believe a few of those crimes were fabricated too."

Clearly hurt but unable to contradict the facts, Peter swallowed hard in an effort to remain calm and collected. "So... why are you even bothering to come along then, if it's not an order?"

Saal huffed a faint laugh, amazed that the usually so clever man hadn't realized it. "Because I am in love with you, you idiot."

Peter blinked, completely stunned either by the fact or how easily Saal could just say it out loud like that, but soon a wide grin appeared on his face and he took a step closer. "Yeah?"

Scoffing, Saal bent down to yank out his army bag from underneath his bed. "Don't give me that. You knew I fancied you. You've known all along."

"I knew you didn't mind banging me," Peter said, slithering even closer, watching as the man opened the empty bag. "I just didn't know... When I asked you to stay and you said no, I thought..."

Saal moved over to open a closet and pulled out some clothes he wanted to bring. "I don't believe in fairytales, Peter. I'm a realist." He walked back to put the clothing neatly into the bag. "Love and impulsive decisions sounds fine in storybooks, but the real world doesn't work like that. A man can continue living for a long, long time with a broken heart, you know?"

Peter tilted his head curiously. "So what did Nova Prime tell you?"

"She wants me to keep an eye on you." Saal sent a second closet a pensive look, wondering if he should bring his knife collection. "Keep you out of trouble. Basically I am officially your babysitter." He sent the offended Terran a slight smirk. "Oh, relax. Don't get your knickers in a twist. It's politics. It's the only way she can let me go without taking my rank and exiling me."

Predictably Peter did flinch at the words 'taking my rank' and 'exiling me', but Saal knew the man hadn't really thought about the consequences of what he had been asking him to do. Peter Quill wasn't the kind of guy to think about consequences.  
"Why?" Peter asked. "I mean, not that I don't appreciate her doing this, but... Why is she doing this?"

Saal paused in his packing, considering lying, but decided against it as he faced him with a sigh. "Partially because she does have some interest in you. Whatever those blood samples they took from you revealed about your father, it made you a person of interest for the entire Nova Corps. That and... I'm sort of polluting the Nova Force. Ever since I got... injured, I haven't been myself. Everything changed in that explosion and my malcontent has been reaching her through the stream of Nova Force."  
He smiled, slightly embarrassed. "She said this last week was the first time, since the explosion, that she felt me... not miserable."

The wide smile was back on Peter's face and suddenly Saal found himself shoved backwards to land on his bed. 

He couldn't help a light laugh as the Terran followed and hovered over him. It brought back memories. "Peter, we don't have time for this. The others are waiting in the ship, wondering what the bloody hell is happening and..."

The Denarian trailed off and closed his eyes as Peter's lips started working on his neck. 

-

Physically unable to keep his hands off the other man, Starlord relished how his touch made Saal shiver and tense up.

The soldier's body clearly remembered how much teasing it had been put through yesterday and that there had been no release for it.

It didn't take too many caresses and biting kisses on his neck before Saal was breathing faster and squirming against him to sneak a leg around his while his hands seemed uncertain of what to do.  
"This is unnecessary," the Denarian ground out, even as he arched up against him. "Once we get back to the ship, we can, ah, spend all the time we... we want on fooling around..."

"Who is fooling around?" Peter yanked the uniform jacket open, hearing several buttons shooting off, and silenced Saal's objections with a persuading kiss and his hand going under his shirt.

Their affair had started in this bed, it was almost poetic to have a final grope in it as Peter intended for Saal to never return to it again.

Garthan Saal might not be a romantic, but Peter Quill was and he knew they were going to fly off into space and live happily ever after!

It was a damn shame that his Be Prepared motto had failed him and caused him to leave the lube on the Milano, but in his defense, sex had been the last thing on his mind as they were landing on Xandar.  
Oh well, it didn't mean Peter couldn't indulge himself a little!

Sliding down, he began to open the button on Saal's pants and couldn't help grinning a little at how deliciously disheveled Saal was already appearing as he was staring breathlessly down at Peter.  
Like the first time, the man's hands were grasping at the sheets, not trusting himself to moderate his strength, but there was no uncertainty about the scars or his desire this time.

Tugging and pushing away fabric, Peter could feel how his prize grew harder under his every touch, but once Saal's cock was finally freed it was impossible to tell whether it was the soldier or the Ravager who made the eager moan emerging with the flesh.

Saal did make a valiant effort to say Peter's name but it was lost in a mindless gasp the second Peter drew him into his mouth.

At first Peter was completely focused on the task itself and the perfect feeling of it, but he did love the sounds escaping from Saal's tightly closed lips.

The longer he worked him, the harder the Denarian fought to keep quiet or as still as possible, but it was a fight he kept losing.

Using every trick he knew to build up the tension, Peter knew he would never tire of watching Saal trembling helplessly in desperation under his touch.

There was probably nothing hotter than watching a guy so rigorously in control of himself fall apart...

The Denarian's shoulders pushed back against the mattress, making his back arch, and the impressive chest heaved with every hard won breath he managed to take as he struggled to keep from bucking his hips up.  
Even driven half out of his mind with lust, Saal was still mindful of hurting his partner, something he proved again when both his hands went through Peter's hair and yet made no attempt to control his movements at all.

Peter knew Saal was a stone cold killer and wouldn't hesitate if it was to protect another person, but he suspected the soldier would rather take a bullet himself than hurt someone he cared about.

How could the man not believe in fairy tales? People like him only existed in fairy tales!

Placing his hands on Saal's hips and holding him down, Peter hummed softly around him before taking him in even deeper.  
Like he knew it would, Saal's climax hit the soldier hard and his body shook and jerked beyond his control while a pained sound of utter bliss could barely be heard in the man's gasps.

Gently releasing him when it was over, Peter crawled up to lie next to Saal, but rested his head on the still heaving chest to hear the thundering heartbeats like a testament to his skills. "Now you can finish your packing so we can go back to the ship, where I fully intend to fuck you until you forget your own name."

-

Residual pleasure still shuddered through Saal's body, making him twitch occasionally, yet the words brought a faint laugh tainted with lust. "While I have no objection to that, whatsoever... Peter, we need to talk about certain things."

Starlord turned his head so he could peer up at him. "Like what?"

"Like," Saal sighed, "from this day, if I hear you have shagged another living being, I will personally cut off your balls and watch you bleed to death."

Snorting a laugh, Peter squirmed slightly with discomfort. "O-kay, no need to sugarcoat stuff, Garthan. But it goes both ways, yeah? No fucking any law-abiding Captains behind my back."

Now it was Saal's turn to laugh. "You need to let go of Reyne, Peter. There was nothing going on there."

"Yeah, well, you didn't see the way he was staring at you," Peter grumbled. "The guy might have been an idiot, but he had excellent taste. Gotta give him that."

The smile widened on Saal's face and he stroke a hand up Peter's back until it came to a rest behind his neck. "I still think you are delusional. But, fair enough, I won't be straying from your bed either." 

Grunting satisfied, Peter burrowed close to him again, strangely at ease despite how he'd received no release from his desire. "Then we have a deal!"

Saal absently played with the hair at the back of Peter's neck. "One more thing."

"What?"

"Your criminal activities..." Saal felt the other man draw a sharp breath, getting ready to argue, and quickly raised his other hand to silence him. "Hear me out."  
Peter reluctantly eased down again.  
"I'm still a Denarian in the Xandarian army," Saal said. "I cannot aid you much or approve of you breaking the law. However, I'm not naive enough to think I can change your ways... "

"We'll compromise," Peter interrupted, sliding an arm possessively across Saal's stomach.

"How?" Saal asked, taking a light hold behind his neck in an equally possessive move.

Maybe if they just held on to each other tight enough, maybe then the universe couldn't come between them?

Peter glanced up at him again, giving a surprisingly soft smile. "We'll find a way."

Blinking with surprise, Saal considered his words. It sounded so simple...  
And then he realized that it 'was' that simple.

Compromise. Give and take. Meeting each other half way, building a bridge.

If they truly wanted it to work, they were both stubborn enough to make it happen.

Saal felt himself returning the smile with one of his own. "Yes, we will."

And he believed it.


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two hours later, from the top floor in the Nova Headquarters, Nova Prime gazed down at the two men walking towards the air docks.

Two hours later, from the top floor in the Nova Headquarters, Nova Prime gazed down at the two men walking towards the air docks.

She didn't need to patch into the Nova Force to sense Denarian Saal's feelings as she could tell by the lightness to his steps that the weight was off his shoulders and his chest was filled with possibilities instead of regrets.

A person stepped up next to Nova Prime and stared down at the same two men.  
After a moment of silence, the person, a brown haired man, spoke. "Sending him away won't solve anything, Nova Prime."

At first it appeared as if she hadn't heard him, but then she replied in a neutral voice. "It might."

"I understand you have a certain sentiment for Denarian Saal," the man offered, almost gently. "You served with his father. You watched him grow up. You taught him to fight."

The memories brought a ghost of a smile to Nova Prime's lips, only visible to the most sharp-eyed of observers, but it vanished quickly. "Your point, Centurion Torthar?"

"With your attachment to Denarian Saal, I can sympathize with your reluctance to have him put to death, but history has taught us what happens if we do not deal with this." Torthar took a step closer to Nova Prime, lowering his voice. "He will end up killing us all, Nova Prime. He's dangerous!"

Clenching her jaw, Nova Prime watched as Denarian Saal and Peter Quill disappeared into the docking area. She waited until they were out of sight before turning to give a challenging stare to the man next to her. "We don't know that. Things might be different this time."

Clearly not convinced, but knowing better than to argue with his superior, Torthar gave a slight bow before leaving the office.

Continuing to stare out the window, waiting until she saw the cargo ship take off and head for space, Nova Prime found herself praying she had done the right thing.

Garthan had been the closest thing she'd come to having a son. After his parents had been killed during one of the many wars ravaging Xandar during those days, she 'd followed up on the promise she had given them to look after the teenager, and Garthan had never given her a single reason to regret that decision.

But, what if Torthar was right? What if she had just killed them all because she couldn't authorize the death of one single Denarian in order to protect the entire planet?

Only time would tell...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you really think I would just give you a happy ending? HAH! 
> 
> I warned you that the plot bunnies had gotten to me!  
> So, I fear there will be another part in this story! A slightly darker one, but only after you get the one-shot where Saal and Yondu meet for the first time!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading this story, drop me a line if you did, and that you might want to tag along with our two boys in their future adventures! :)


End file.
